Ciel and Sebastian - His Butler, Nursemaid
by JackOwens1860
Summary: First attempt at writing the characters of Ciel and Sebastian. Ciel is ill with mild flu. Sebastian tends to his master's needs. Closest to fluff they can manage. Enjoy. New Chapter added: Ciel is left rolling his eyes as he is tasked to solve yet another murder on the Queen's behalf, but is this one different?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Ciel and Sebastian now, an exploration of their complex relationship when the young master is ill with flu. Read and Review if you find it agreeable. Enjoy.**

**His Butler, Nursemaid**

Sebastian had entered his young master's bedchamber as usual and begun to rouse him in a daily routine he knew by rote but endeavoured to vary. He opened the curtains and announced his presence in a bright and cheery voice, despite only ever being met with indifference.

"It is time to awake, young master. Another day is upon us." Sebastian said turning from the window to see his master beginning to stir into life. He crossed to the tea tray and lifted both pot and cup into the air to pour the first drink of the day. "Today's tea is English…" He was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of someone trying to suppress a particularly violent cough. It had come from beneath the master's bedcovers, meaning it had come from the master himself. He immediately replaced the pot and cup onto the tray. "Are you ill, Sir?" He inquired despite being wholly certain he was correct in his assessment. He stooped over the boy's still hidden form and awaited a reply he come to find a typical response from the Earl Phantomhive.

"No. I'm fine. Where's my tea already?" Ciel said before restraining another cough. Sebastian waited patiently for his young lord to emerge from the bedcovers so he could make a more accurate diagnosis. When the boy did not sit up, the demon was inclined to tut in disapproval of the situation.

"Oh dear. It would appear that many prolonged nights in the cold weather have upset your delicate constitution. I would hazard a guess of mild influenza if you are so weak as to not be able to so much as sit upright in bed." This slight against his person prompted the young master to force himself to sit up in bed in order to taint Sebastian's analysis. The demon observed his expression to be his natural state of regal indignation.

"How dare you put forward such slander! I am perfectly fine. I merely have a slight cough that could be explained by any number of factors."

"Such as influenza, My Lord." Sebastian said having noted the slightly damp condition of his young master's bedclothes, indicating fever and lack of energy. The persistence of this analysis was met with a loud outburst of anger from the boy that wavered on hysteria, another known trait of his.

"Shut up you stupid demon! I am not ill and you are not a recognised physician so I would not so much as wipe my arse with your paltry diagnosis! Now give me my tea and sod off!" Ciel shrieked before erupting into an intense coughing fit that delighted Sebastian to no end. He smirked whilst dabbing away the spittle caught on the boy's bottom lip.

"My, my, such coarse language is scarcely proper from a nobleman of your station. Please refrain from such vile obscenities in future, Sir, it does not suit you. As for my credentials as a physician, I spent a number of years lecturing on infectious diseases and diagnostic medicine at the Medical University of Vienna in the last fifty years and also had several semesters at the London Hospital Medical College prior to entering service with you. I am more than capable of ascertaining your current status." Sebastian explained genially as he softly pressed his hand against his young master's forehead. He had an elevated temperature of no more than two degrees, but it was enough to argue for bed rest. "You have a mild case of influenza, My Lord, but nothing of serious concern. Given the correct and proper treatment, you should be fully recovered in a day or so." Ciel glared up at him.

"I was under the impression such an illness required significantly longer in order to fully recover, three or four days at the very least." He said with some scepticism. Sebastian was used to such a dismissive attitude of his skills. He found he enjoyed being underestimated by humans: it made them seem all the more foolish when he performed beyond compare in reply.

"That would be under the care of an ordinary physician, Sir. Although they are not inadequate, if I could not help my master recover from a debilitating and unwanted illness in a fraction of the time required then what kind of butler would I be?" The boy responded to this rhetorical question by smacking away the demon's hand from his forehead. Sebastian expected such disdain for his services and did not mind in the slightest.

"I don't suppose I can order you to expedite the process?" Ciel said before stifling another cough. It seemed he had dispensed with his false bravado and accepted the truth, something Sebastian found his master only did in private and with his company. The demon shook his head in a manner he hoped appeared apologetic

"I'm afraid we are limited not by medicine but by your body's own natural chemistry, Sir. The best I can do is a minimum of twenty-four hours. I do so apologize for any inconvenience it may cause you."

"Do I have any meetings or appointments scheduled?"

"None that are of any urgency, My Lord. Shall I postpone them with your sincerest regrets?"

"I suppose so." The boy replied, gently pressing his fingers over his larynx. "My throat is sore. Do you have something to ease the discomfort?"

"Honey and lemon tea should help smooth the irritation, Sir. I shall prepare some in a few moments. First I would recommend changing both the sheets and your bedclothes: they are noticeably damp with sweat." Sebastian crossed an arm over his chest and bowed low at the waist, "Will you permit me to do so?" Ciel narrowed his eyes but then softened his expression and sighed.

"My current state is disagreeable. Yes, Sebastian. You may change my clothes and bedsheets."

"Yes, My Lord."

The demon dealt with the bed linen first, placing Ciel in the nearby chair wrapped in a blanket whilst he did so. The turnover was almost instantaneous and was soon beginning to redress the boy for his convalescence. He stripped his young lord of his nightshirt, dried his skin with a towel and then assisted him into a fresh shirt. The boy never resisted him in such moments of intimacy, seemingly entirely at ease with the situation. Sebastian was aware of his young lord regarding him throughout these actions but was used to this unusually intense attention. He had decided some time ago it was simply the boy trying to reason him out, nothing more. Once done with this, the demon returned him to bed and quickly took the tea tray back to the kitchen to re-brew a more appropriate blend. Less than two minutes after leaving the bedchamber, Sebastian returned to serve the tea once more.

"That's much better." Ciel said having sipped roughly half of his cup away. His demon butler smiled as he continued wringing the wet flannel over the basin of cold water.

"It pleases me to hear that, Sir. I have prepared a cold cloth for your forehead in order to ease the fever. I have also sent Finny and Mei-Rin to town in order to cancel your appointments for the day."

"Why did you not go and cancel the appointments yourself? I do not trust them to handle such matters with the necessary tact." His young lord said as the demon crossed back over to his side with an unlabelled medicine bottle and tablespoon.

"I did not instruct them to engage in conversation, merely to deliver letters I wrote on your behalf. I am certain all your contacts will find them satisfactory." Sebastian said whilst carefully pouring a measured spoonful of honey-coloured liquid and presenting it to the boy. He regarded it distastefully.

"What on earth is that concoction? Is it a recognised medicine?"

"It is something of my own design, Sir. Its potency is roughly ten-times that of conventional cough syrups."

"It smells awful."

"But it tastes like sugar, My Lord."

Ciel's eyes widened at the prospect but were noticeably marred by an underlying mistrust and suspicion. "You can't lie to me, can you, Sebastian?" He checked whilst continuing to eye the offered medicine with reluctance.

"Of course not, Sir. I am a demon and therefore cannot lie. It does taste like sugar, I promise you." The demon said with a smile he hoped looked sincere. Ciel opened his mouth. Sebastian deftly placed the spoon onto his tongue. The boy swallowed and adopted a surprised expression in the aftermath as the spoon was removed. His butler smiled whilst running a finger underneath his young lord's chin in approval that he had ingested all of it without trouble. "You see? Perfectly suitable for your palate. Are you finished with your tea, Sir?"

"Yes. Take it away."

"Certainly, my young lord. Here." Sebastian exchanged the tea cup for the damp cloth, placing it neatly in the centre of the boy's forehead as he lay down. Ciel emitted a sigh that could only signal satisfaction when the cloth made contact, pleasing his demon butler to no end. "Shall I take it you will sleep for a time now, Sir?" He asked. His master's eyes remained fully open and less than receptive to the idea.

"I'm not particularly tired. How long will it be before this medicinal cocktail of yours takes full effect?"

"It will blunt the acute symptoms in the next ten minutes and should aid your immune system's response to the illness over the next few hours. By my closest estimations, you should be fully recovered by late afternoon." Ciel's immediate reaction to this prognosis was to scoff.

"That's not that impressive for a demon butler." The young lord said before releasing yet another sigh, clearly of frustration. "This whole situation is intolerable." Sebastian bowed low.

"What would you have me do, Sir?"

"I take it you still have your chores to do?"

"Yes, of course, but I will delay all of them if you wish me to tend to your needs, My Lord."

"Don't be impertinent, Sebastian. I don't need you for the immediate future. Attend to your duties. Return to me when it is appropriate."

"As you wish, Sir. Would you care for breakfast?"

"No."

"Until later."

Sebastian polished all the silverware in the kitchen, ironed and laid the table cloth in the dining room and continued in other cleaning tasks until roughly eleven. At this time of the day, it was typical to tutor his master in some necessary subject until twelve-thirty and then break away to prepare lunch for serving at one in the afternoon. He chose to return to Ciel's room instead of proceeding with his normal schedule. Once he had knocked and been given permission to enter, he was bemused to find the boy sat up and surrounded by textbooks.

"Is everything alright, Sir?" He asked closing the door.

"I think we will study Classics today, Sebastian. I find I am eager to test my vocabulary on passages of the Iliad. Shall I read them aloud?" His young master said already beginning to turn to a pre-selected passage of text Sebastian had instructed him to study the previous week. The demon had not expected the boy to be in any mood for study today given his condition, but was impressed nevertheless.

"That sounds ideal, My Lord, but perhaps you might want some refreshment before commencing."

"I am still not hungry, Sebastian. I think your concoction has ruined my appetite." Ciel informed him whilst moving a finger down his current page, evidently in search of the text's opening line.

"Shall I return this Gateau des Fruits to the kitchen in that case then?" Sebastian inquired showcasing the freshly plated slice of cake he had brought with him. His master's eyes almost shot up at the mention of gateau. He regarded it with obvious longing and desire and was fittingly accompanied by an audible rumble of the stomach.

"Is it fresh?"

"Baked but an hour ago, Sir, whilst I was dusting the drawing room. It is even still slightly warm to the touch."

"Very well, bring it here." Sebastian did as instructed, drawing up alongside Ciel's left-hand side and presenting the plate to him. The boy took it and the subsequent fork offered before settling the plate in his lap atop of the textbook. He ate the first bite in silence. The demon waited patiently for his young lord to render a verdict. When he ate another two in quick succession, Sebastian was satisfied the sweet was to his liking.

"I enjoyed that immensely." Ciel said upon finishing the piece and settling his fork down on the empty plate. It was a rare verbal complement, one that Sebastian was not used to hearing escape the boy's tight lips. He was in a giving mood today it seemed. The demon inclined his head.

"I am glad it was to your liking, Master." He said clearing away the crockery, "Are you ready to begin the recital?"

"Do not call it that. Shall I commence?" Ciel said as Sebastian straightened himself back to an upright position.

"Please do."

The lesson continued in their usual way, with the master making minor errors every so often and his demon butler correcting him without an air of superiority or arrogance. Ciel did cough occasionally to disrupt his natural cadence, but it was no longer as severe or sharp as earlier. Sebastian was pleased with his young lord's fast recovery. Once the lesson was concluded, the demon cleared away all the textbooks that were cluttering the sheets and asked to be excused to prepare lunch.

"What are you preparing today?"

"I will prepare whatever you wish, young master. What would you prefer?"

"Something light."

"Perhaps a salad of some description might suit your needs. I will prepare a salmon salad with rocket leaves and a balsamic dressing. It should be agreeable."

"Yes, fine."

"In that case, may I be excused to begin preparations, Sir?" Sebastian said anticipating a dismissive hand gesture and nothing more, however this time, for the first time, his master hesitated. Ciel looked contemplative for a moment before articulating a rather strange statement of fact.

"I have never seen you prepare a meal, Sebastian."

"You have no need to, My Lord. You are a nobleman: supervising the preparations of foodstuffs for your consumption is beneath you and inappropriate for someone of your standing."

"I would still like to." The boy said with some insistence on the subject. The demon smiled.

"If you are finding your convalescence tedious, I can find you a more enriching distraction than my meagre duties."

"Would my presence unnerve you, Sebastian?" Ciel said almost teasingly. Sebastian raised his eyebrows in mild surprise but answered regardless.

"Not at all, Sir, it would merely be unprofessional for me to allow you to witness such labour."

"I don't care. I want you to carry me to the kitchen and then prepare my lunch. That is an order."

"As you wish, My Young Lord."

The boy did not want to properly dress for his trip to the kitchen. He wore his patch and agreed to don his dressing gown at Sebastian's request, but did genuinely not seem overly concerned if the others saw him in such an intimate position. The demon had rarely viewed his master as a child in anything but physical appearance and the evident love he possessed for confectionery, but this was different. Ciel seemed inquisitive instead of curious and carefree as opposed to restrained, two traits Sebastian had learned existed in almost every other child his age. He supposed his master's illness and boredom were the contributing factors in this break from tradition, but had to admit to finding the change a pleasant surprise.

"Here you are, Sir, the best seat in the house from which to watch this spectacle." Sebastian said setting his young lord down on the countertop as if the boy were as fragile and delicate as an egg. When he tried to pull away, he found the master's hand was still gripping his shoulder or rather testing its form.

"You are remarkably solid for something only imitating a man. It feels very much like hard muscle when manipulated." Ciel remarked before releasing his grip. Sebastian found it almost endearing in an odd way, something he thought he would never associate with his master. The demon smiled.

"It is supposed to. Are you comfortable, My Lord?"

"I would not call it that, but it is sufficient for my purposes. Proceed."

Sebastian prepared all the ingredients for the salad, tossed them into a mixing bowl and then plated the result before he applied the dressing. The whole process took less than twenty minutes but still yielded a dish that looked every bit as aesthetically pleasing as any of his other more complex arrangements. During the process, he made frequent eye contact with his young master to ensure he did not inadvertently miss a non-verbal command or order that the boy often delivered to test his skills. But Ciel did not issue any commands whatsoever: he just watched the demon work in silence. Sebastian was growing slightly bemused by this behaviour, but not yet enough to speak out of turn about it.

"There we are, Master, one salmon salad. Would you like to eat in the dining room or the drawing room today?" Sebastian asked as he began to unroll his shirt sleeves having already washed his hands. His master gave a cursory glance around the room.

"Is it dirty in here or something? Can I not eat it off any surface in this house I desire or have you neglected your duties and only cleaned certain parts of this house?" Ciel responded whilst his butler discarded the apron and re-donned his tailcoat. The demon gave him a brief bow.

"I have never neglected my duties, Sir. This is a room for preparing your meals. Subsequently it is impeccably maintained, but is not fit for you to take your meals in. It does not offer a complimentary aesthetic to the dish, a comfortable seat to hold your carriage or a pleasant flower arrangement to enhance your culinary experience."

"You have disrupted my usual routine with your diagnosis. Therefore I think it only fair I disrupt yours. I'm eating in here. Pass me some cutlery." The boy ordered just as his servant had finished putting on his gloves.

"I am to infer you are doing this in some effort to spite me for ordering you stay in bed, Sir?" Sebastian said presenting the boy with a knife and fork. Ciel smirked.

"I am a child after all, Sebastian. Is irritating people not what children are best at?"

"With your track record in the affairs of this country, I would say irritating people was almost a calling of yours, My Lord." The demon offered with a smile. To his continued surprise, his young lord smiled too.

"You are not entirely unfunny, Sebastian."

"Thank you, Sir."

Once lunch was formally concluded, Sebastian asked to be excused so that he could attend to his other duties. When Ciel asked what they entailed, the demon told him about doing the daily accounting records, making preparations for dinner and completing any outstanding tasks in and around town. The boy said he wished to bathe and then dress for going outside in the gardens. The demon liked this change of pace and he especially liked the idea that his master believed such a disruption of routine was some kind of awful punishment for him. He expected the boy's recovery to be testing, but it was remarkably enjoyable.

"I take it you are feeling much better now, My Lord?" Sebastian asked as he washed under his master's armpits.

"Whatever potion you fed me is apparently working. I still feel too warm, but not enough to be uncomfortable."

"And your throat, Sir?" The demon said rinsing away the soap, "Is that also better?"

"It tickles but is no longer sore."

"I am pleased to hear that."

"Are you?"

"Of course. You are my master. If you are not well, how can I expect you to gain your revenge with complete satisfaction?" Sebastian said lathering up the boy's wet hair.

"Yes, my soul. It still staggers me how much you demons will do to simply consume one paltry soul. When I was younger, my family employed an army of servants to do all the jobs you do on a daily basis. I even had a maid whose only task was to bathe me." Ciel answered as the demon combed the lather through his scalp.

"And did she do a satisfactory job, Sir?"

"She used to pull my hair when washing it. She said it was to clean it down to the roots. I think she just enjoyed making me suffer." The boy said bitterly. Sebastian's hand stopped halfway through his master's hair in something akin to pity. He ruffled the hair with a feather-light touch before continuing to comb through.

"She sounds unprofessional, Sir. Please tilt your head back." Ciel did as instructed. Sebastian rinsed the lather out with a jug of clean water whilst supporting his young lord's head.

"I also had my own nursemaid to dress me, brush my teeth and comb my hair." The boy added once eased back to a sitting position.

"If you wish me to employ more staff to tend to your needs, I will happily begin screening potential candidates this afternoon." Sebastian said standing at the side of the bathtub with a fresh towel. His master rose up and stepped onto the bathmat.

"I don't require more servants, Sebastian. I just need you." Ciel told him as the demon draped the towel around his shoulders. They exchanged glances in silence as Sebastian framed the boy's face with another towel to dry his hair. "I don't feel safe with anyone else anymore." The demon smiled at this admission of childish insecurity. He ran a thumb over his young lord's cheek in a fleeting gesture of affection. For once, Ciel did not jerk away violently or reprimand him for his familiarity. He simply stared at him in something not unlike silent gratitude. Sebastian began to dry his hair.

"I understand your reasons, Sir. Now, what shall we wear today?"

It was an hour later and both master and butler found themselves outside the rear of the mansion near the rose garden. Ciel was wrapped up warm against the inclement weather in his fur-lined hooded cloak as he sat on the bench sipping the tea Sebastian had furnished him with. The demon just off to his side with the tea trolley resting between them.

"How is your tea, Sir?"

"Adequate. Have you done some gardening here in recent weeks?" The boy asked sipping his tea. The demon nodded his head.

"Indeed I have, Young Master. How could you tell?"

"The roses are in bloom."

"Not unusual for someone with a green thumb, Sir."

"It is in the dead of winter, Sebastian."

"Well if I couldn't make something as simple as roses bloom out of season…"

"There is no need to finish that sentence. Sit with me."

"I must say your wishes today have been most out of character. How am I to serve you additional refreshments if I am sat beside you and not stood with the trolley?"

"Just sit with me and fuss over your cakes and chocolates later."

"As you wish, Master."

Sebastian took his place beside his young lord on the bench and awaited further orders. None came. Ciel finished his tea and then held it cupped in gloved hands. They stared at the sea of pink and white roses on the hedgerows in a silence the demon found comfortable. His master was thinking. He could tell just by the concentrated look of melancholy and wistfulness on the boy's face that only came with reflection. It signalled that he was preparing to articulate something awkward or unusual.

"I enjoy your company, Sebastian. Did you know that?"

"I always believed you merely tolerated me, Sir."

"Perhaps in the beginning, but not now."

"I suppose I too must admit to a growing attachment to you beyond your soul and our deal, Sir. I enjoy serving you."

Ciel slowly leaned over until he was pressing against the demon's side, his head resting gingerly on Sebastian's shoulder. "I am glad to hear that, Sebastian. I sincerely hope my soul meets all your expectations when the time finally comes." The demon smiled before manoeuvring an arm around his master's shoulder. The boy had been starved of any affection since his parents' deaths but seemed to shoulder the burden without great difficulty. However, just this once, he had crumbled to the child he kept under lock and key. It was nice to finally hold him without necessity forcing the union. It was almost like the natural instinct Sebastian had noted in others.

"We shall deal with such issues when the time comes, Master. Until then please continue to enjoy the roses." Sebastian said gently squeezing the boy's shoulder. Tomorrow, this whole day would be forgotten by both of them and normal service would resume. The demon knew this was not the start of another phase in their relationship, but merely a short-lived confirmation of just how close they had become to one another over the past two years. Contracts aside, Sebastian cared for this child more than he had for any previous masters. They simply paled in significance to his young lord, no matter what trait or skill they presented. Ciel Phantomhive was his favourite human and brought him to the precipice of experiencing love for another being. It could never truly be love as humans knew it – he was a demon and thus incapable of such attachment – but it was close enough. His master sighed.

"Just this once, Sebastian, you may address me by my Christian name. I am curious as to how it would come off your tongue."

"As you wish…my young Ciel."

"This does not mean we are friends."

"I know, Master." Sebastian said squeezing him again, "I know."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Anyone for seconds? Here's a follow-up to last year's offering. It is only a prologue and merely serves to establish the plot upon which the real story will be built. Murder mysteries and Ciel Phantomhive really ought to go hand-in-hand. Following this opener, I am expecting to add another two or three additional chapters to continue and close the story arc. Hope it's enjoyable…**

**Ciel and Sebastian**

**Intrigue**

Ciel Phantomhive slowed his breathing and looked down the sight of his rifle, watching the barrel rise and fall with each breath. He established a lead from the left-hand trap, ensured his supporting hand was firm enough and gave the command.

"Pull."

Before the clay pigeon could even gain full height, the earl had shattered it into pieces with a pinpoint shot. Another pigeon flew from the right-hand trap, lower this time and faster. It was dispatched in the same ruthless fashion as its brethren. One tried to streak across the floor only to be clipped by yet another bullet, this time from Ciel's revolver since he had no time to reload the rifle. Another clay arced into the sky on a high trajectory. The boy brought it down with practiced ease. When no more surprise targets presented themselves, Ciel turned towards his range warden and scowled. Sebastian smiled.

"You explicitly said this would be a 'conventional' shoot, not some kind of unfair exam! How can I possibly reload before you fire another two?"

"I did not say 'who' it was conventional for, Master. Perhaps for a lesser nobleman, the practice might have been too taxing on the mind, but you managed it with ease. Therefore, I should have said this is a conventional shoot for a Phantomhive. I apologize." Sebastian explained bowing low. Ciel narrowed his eyes at his butler before sighing.

"Your ways of finding a method to omit the truth without lying are becoming ridiculous. Damn demon."

"Are you ready for the next practice, Sir?"

"I want time to reload before you ruin another of my pastimes." Ciel muttered whilst taking another two shells from his coat pocket and smoothly loading them into the chamber. He snapped the rifle back together, brought it to the shoulder, squared his hips and relaxed.

"Pull."

Ciel collapsed in his study chair following the conclusion of the morning's shoot. If anything, the shoot became even more absurd as it drew to a close. The boy bitterly recalled having to empty not only both barrels but also all six chambers of his revolver in taking down the eight targets that presented themselves in a frenzied fifteen seconds of activity that actually left him winded. _I order you to make me the best marksman in the Kingdom, Sebastian._ He had actually said that, as an order, six weeks ago. He only had himself to blame for the demon's escalating interpretation of that command. The boy knew that, but still…

He was interrupted from his thoughts by a smart pair of knocks on his door. He hated that he could recognize Sebastian just from the sound of his knocking.

"What?"

"I have drawn a bath for you, Sir." The demon said through the wood. Ciel clenched a fist.

"And why have you done that when I asked for tea?" He inquired restraining his anger by the barest of margins.

"I thought you might consent to taking your tea whilst bathing, considering there is a little less than forty minutes before Her Majesty's messengers arrive and you cannot appear before guests such as you are." Ciel rolled his eyes at the mention of having to entertain Earl Grey and Master Phipps yet again, given their unbecoming conduct the last time they had visited. He inwardly groaned before composing himself for a reply.

"Do I really appear that unseemly?" He asked only to be met with silence. "Sebastian?" The boy frowned when hearing the muffled sound of laughter.

"Apologies, Master, but your choice of vocabulary is not quite correct. You are not a lady of the night, after all." The demon said with more than a little amusement. Ciel despised him for finding humour in every slight error he made in word or deed. Who was serving whom here?

"And what word do you deem appropriate?"

"Childish. As you are, disheveled and damp from exertion, to appear before servants of Her Majesty as you are would appear to be the actions of a lazy child, not an earl of the realm."

Before Sebastian was able to launch into a lecture on the proper behaviors of an earl, Ciel conceded his point and dragged his body from the chair to the hallway. Sebastian offered a helping hand when it became clear his master was having trouble walking with legs like lead only to be cruelly dismissed with a slapped wrist. "I am an earl, not a 'lazy child', butler." Ciel snapped. Sebastian smiled at him and nodded.

"Yes, My Lord."

"The tea's cold." Ciel remarked whilst throwing the scalding contents of his cup directly in the demon's face as he washed the boy's hair. Sebastian responded to this with a smile that was almost sympathetic.

"Is there a reason for your sour mood, Master? Or is it that you simply wish to punish me for stretching you so this morning?" The butler said wiping down his face with a forearm. Ciel rolled his eyes before sighing.

"Whenever the Queen sends those two, it always spells trouble for me. I'm starting to wonder if she will ever give me a more leisurely assignment to investigate."

"Do not pretend that you would enjoy a slower pace of life, Master. You enjoy the challenges of Her Majesty's little 'games' too much to wish for anything else." Sebastian commented before unceremoniously taking hold of the boy's chin and turning it in his direction, "You are never happier than when you claim victory in spite of a stacked deck." Ciel stared into the demon's red eyes for a moment, impressed by their power but not overwhelmed.

"Remove your hand and bring me more tea. Now." He said sternly. Sebastian's lean fingers lingered in place for a moment, as if considering an alternative action, before withdrawing.

"Yes, My Lord."

The Two Charles arrived just as Sebastian had finished dressing his master and the boy reluctantly descended from the staircase to greet them in the foyer. They were unfortunately as testing as ever in their manner, Earl Grey in particular. No sooner had the parties greeted one another than Grey opened their dialogue with the words "have you had anyone murdered recently?" Despite finding his tone both blunt and unbecoming to one of Victoria's highest officers, Ciel managed to give him a firm reply without sounding overly irritated.

"Not to my knowledge."

"Neither have we, however someone important has turned up dead in any case. So, are you going serve tea or not?"

Ciel opened his mouth to fire a scathing response only for Sebastian's lean fingers to touch his arm. The motion was subtle enough to go unnoticed by their guests but did stop the boy from saying anything he might later regret. He was privately thankful for the demon's action as the butler extended an arm in the direction of the drawing room, "Please go right in. I shall serve you drinks and refreshments once you are settled."

"Sir Ernest Ranford, one of Her Majesty's favourite subjects and most loyal knights of the realm, was found dead not two hours ago by his butler, poisoned apparently. The Queen has tasked you to investigate the crime and bring the culprit to justice…outside of court of course."

"This sounds rather tame to engage my family's services for. Can you two not simply handle the investigation for yourselves, or better yet, let the authorities deal with it?" Ciel said derisively as he sipped his tea. Earl Grey's decision to abruptly get to his feet and glare at him was not an expected reaction, nor was him having a face like thunder. Phipps did nothing to calm him as the man launched into a vicious tirade.

"Are you deaf, you insolent brat? The Queen, your SOVEREIGN, has tasked YOU, her servant, to find the murderer. You are in no position to veto or disregard her commands, being her alleged watchdog. Comply or be stripped of your earldom and all the privileges that entails." This threat was also a surprise to Ciel, prompting an involuntarily look of shock to manifest on his face.

"My titles are on the line?"

Earl Grey smirked at this reaction, apparently placated by its presence and sat back down to give his rebuttal. "They are _always_ in jeopardy when there is the possibility of failure. We're all surprised you haven't lost them already on previous endeavors, but I suppose having a death-proof butler helps you keep your head above water a bit better than most."

"If you refer to my master as a 'brat' once more, I will be forced into escorting off the premises. Although I deplore such ungentlemanly conduct, your own lack of polish when addressing your peers is a far greater source of discomfort." Sebastian said with real venom underpinning his words that was palpable to everyone in the room, especially Grey who stared long and hard at the demon as he stood at Ciel's side. Following a brief silence, the younger of Victoria's butlers closed his eyes and rubbed his temple whilst smirking.

"A dog's dogs body: what a quaint novelty you are, butler. You can cease sharpening your fangs in any case, since I was only outraged at your master's disdain for our glorious queen and nothing more. So, will you take the investigation or will she take your titles…Earl Phantomhive?" Grey said, stressing his final two words and again eyeing Sebastian in giving them. Throughout all of this, Charles Phipps silently sipped his tea, not even venturing to glance in any direction other than that of Ciel. The older man seemed to be studying his reactions, as if for weakness and exploitation. The boy did not give him any.

"I trust you have something in writing to verify Her Majesty's desires of my involvement in this matter? I would hate to think you would come here without such proof and expect me to blindly obey your instructions like I'm anyone's dog."

"Of course." Phipps said to stop his companion from another unwise reprimand of their host. He produced a sealed envelope from inside his coat and leaned across the table. "Please study this at your leisure." Ciel opened it immediately and read the following words:

To my cute boy,

I write this in haste as there is no time to waste in a matter of such urgency.

My dear Sir Ernest Ranford, a man whom has been faithful to me for more than forty years, was found dead this morning.

His killers must be brought to justice swiftly.

They must suffer for causing me such distress and England too.

Please deal with the matter personally.

When they are dead, bring me proof.

Victoria.

The boy discarded the letter and nodded. "Very well. Consider the matter closed. Now if there's nothing else, you may leave." The two royal butlers exchanged glances, appearing to consider whether to broach another matter with the utmost care. The boy watched them intently. Then Phipps answered for the pair of them.

"No. Our business here is concluded. Thank you for your hospitality, Earl Phantomhive."

The two Charles rose up together, inclined their heads in mutual etiquette and then were escorted from the room to the front door by Sebastian. Once a door slamming shut indicated they had actually departed, the boy slouched back in his seat and sighed. He knew of Sir Ernest. The knight's reputation was a tarnished one with the gentry. All but Queen Victoria had turned on him when certain recriminations against his character were brought to light. Child prostitution was said to be the most prevalent of high society's suspicions, but proof was hard to come by given the amount of power and influence he still wielded outside of privileged circles. The boy was already considering retribution or revenge as a motive when the demon reappeared.

"Shall I pack for London, my young master?" Sebastian asked whilst loosening Ciel's bowtie and top button. The boy was grateful for the sudden lack of restriction around his throat but did not answer.

"What do you suppose her test is this time?" He mused as the butler began to clear away the crockery.

"After all your recent successes and trying circumstances, perhaps Her Majesty merely wishes to see a simple case instead of a grandiose conspiracy put to bed. Maybe she even considers such a mundane undertaking as a reward of sorts for your previous efforts. Who can say with any certainty?"

"Yes, I suppose you're right. Pack for London and prepare to leave within the hour. I want to look while everything's still fresh."

"Yes, My Lord."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: It's coming together. Hopefully I can get things to escalate from here.**

**Ciel and Sebastian**

**Clues**

"I don't think there was any need to get here so quickly." Ciel muttered as he and Sebastian were shown into Sir Ernest's London townhouse. "We could've travelled by coach and been of just as much use tomorrow." The boy added in reference to his butler transporting him to their destination by air in less than thirty minutes.

"But I was informed by Sir Ranford's head butler that the authorities had yet to move the corpse. By arriving here so early, we will be able to view the crime scene before any tampering has occurred." Sebastian countered as they were escorted upstairs to the man's private rooms where police were standing guard. Ciel sighed.

"I don't think it matters much, given the man's unsavory character. He was likely murdered by someone he had wronged or a business connection gone sour. This entire affair will be over before the evening is out."

"How sad. I had hoped we might take in a show before departing back to the manor." The demon sighed as they entered the crime scene. The dead man was sprawled in the centre of what appeared to be his study. Although his face was contorted in horror, there were no apparent causes of death to be seen. One hand clutched to his chest indicated possible heart failure, but it did appear to be a result of poisoning as Earl Grey had said. Discoloration of his lips and jaw suggested he had unwittingly ingested the poison either through food or drink. Situated on the mahogany writing desk to the immediate left of the corpse was an opened bottle of aged bourbon and a single empty glass. Ciel could only roll his eyes at the linear nature of this crime. The Yard was more than capable of apprehending such a careless suspect with this wealth of clues available.

"We were called in for this fiasco?" Ciel sneered as he approached the desk and sniffed the contents of the empty glass. Bitter almonds. He turned to Sebastian and held the glass up. "Poison cyanide. You can smell it." The boy sniffed the contents of the open bottle but could detect anything other than the smoky odor of bourbon. "He was likely poisoned by whoever served him his drink."

"Isn't it rather odd to drink such a beverage in the morning?" Sebastian asked to prompt his master to groan at the holes in the narrative his servant was already creating.

"We need more facts instead of idle speculation. Who is the investigating officer?"

"I am, Phantomhive." Lord Arthur Randall informed them from the doorway. The boy could plainly see the police commissioner was as testy as ever, but had no trouble antagonizing him. He enjoyed seeing the indignation and shock on the man's haggard face. The boy smirked.

"Little wonder that this case has not been put to bed yet then. Nearly four hours on the job and your office is still only alleging poison as the cause of death. How sad."

Randall's entire face went dark. "If Her Majesty did not wish to protect her noblemen's secrets, we might have made more headway than we have. Your kind are fortunate indeed to have her as your safety net. Otherwise this kind of thing would happen a damn sight more often." Ciel fell silent in the face of such a brutal statement, but collected himself quickly enough.

"How dare you say such slander when a man is lying dead at your feet! Have some respect, you're supposed to be a gentleman, not to mention an officer of the law!" The boy snapped. Randall retracted his remark but did not apologize, much to Ciel's chagrin. He was preparing to goad him into doing so only for Sebastian to interrupt.

"Perhaps we could hear the details of the investigation thus far? It will help to speed our departure, after all." The demon said serenely. The boy composed himself, as did Randall.

"From eyewitness accounts, and information gathered from the crime scene, we have ascertained that Sir Ranford was murdered sometime last night between the hours of eleven P.M and two A.M. The doctor's analysis of the body confirms this as the most likely time of death. The man was poisoned with cyanide by whomever served him his evening drink since we found the glass to contain traces of the poison and the bottle not to. Naturally suspicion was pointed at the staff and we investigated them thoroughly. However, all of them have alibis for those hours." The older man said reaching a natural pause. Ciel glanced around the room again and considered.

"Any evidence of motive?" He inquired after noticing the stack of papers splayed on the desktop. Randall gestured to the papers whilst approaching the desk.

"These documents suggest that Sir Ranford was involved in illicit activities concerning several workhouse children, some mired in prostitution and others…less fortunate. An anonymous correspondence between two men is the focus of many of the documents, taking the form of letters. The head butler, Mr. Beecham, identified one of writer's handwriting as matching that of his employer. They discuss murder and the disposal of bodies to evade the authorities." Randall said holding up the accusing papers for the boy's inspection.

"Have you considered the possibility of suicide?" Ciel said taking hold of a letter dated only last week. The tone was not one of desperation or shame, but cold-hearted pragmatism. He frowned at an incongruence of the situation. "Did Sir Ernest write this letter?"

"Yes. He did, according to Mr. Beecham."

"Was it not sent?"

"According to the butler, all Sir Ranford's responses were sent by post on the dates written in the letterhead.

"Are all his sent letters here on the desk?"

"Yes. That is why we think it was some kind of revenge killing. No man would expose himself like this willingly. Someone wished to expose his sordid practices."

"And nobody has any idea of whom the murderer might be, in spite of this wealth of incriminating evidence?"

"None of the staff recognize the other fellow's script. We can readily identify that our mystery man is highly-educated, well-spoken and has an affinity for William Wordsworth since he signs off every letter with a line from one of his poems."

"Is there a reason you do not suspect this to be the work of a woman?" Sebastian suddenly asked after many minutes of silent listening. Randall replied by holding up one of the other man's letters.

"The force of the pen strokes and their direction strongly suggests the writer to be a right-handed man, given that women tend to be more delicate when writing cursive like this."_ Aunt Frances writes like a man _Ciel privately mused as he poured over the two dozen or so letters. The case still looked to be a straight-forward undertaking with no real surprise beyond the fact that none of the staff were responsible. Maybe they were. It would not have been the first time Scotland Yard missed something in their haste to secure a notable conviction. He read the anonymous writer's last line on each letter.

_I wandered lonely as a cloud._

_When all at once, I saw a crowd._

_Along the margin of the bay._

_I gazed- and gazed - but little thought._

_Ten thousand I saw at a glance._

_Caustic was the fen, branded was the boy._

_Indignation wrought, terrible vengeance measured._

_Elegant is the man who finds beauty in ruin._

_Lo! The moon finds all of midnight's sins._

"I take it poetry is not one of your strengths, Lord Randall. Only these five closing lines belong to Wordsworth. The rest are entirely fabricated and rather absurd." Ciel remarked arranging them in the order they had been read. "Your writer clearly fancies himself the next great literary giant. I would advise more practice if this is his best work."

"It seems he is more adept than you appreciate, young master, if you have not seen his other message that is." Sebastian mused drawing alongside the boy. Taking out a pen from his coat pocket, the demon proceeded to circle the first letter of every line before transposing them to a blank sheet of paper from another pocket. Ciel could not help but raise his eyebrows as a very simple, but clear message emerged on the paper:

I WAIT CIEL.

"Another test?" Ciel muttered, already suspecting the two Charles to be behind this hidden message and likely the murder too. Their hesitation in answering whether there was any other business besides the murder to contend did not help allay suspicions either.

"Either that or someone was expecting your presence here." Sebastian answered whilst turning away to look elsewhere in the room. _A game perhaps? They wait for what? A next move, a counterattack? _Ciel found himself confronted with many options but no clear answer to the three-word declaration before him.

"It would appear that your butler has deciphered something very unsettling regarding your involvement, Earl Phantomhive." Randall said from close to his ear. "Perhaps you are acquainted with our killer…or even an accomplice in his crimes…maybe Sir Ranford's too." Ciel glanced at the old man over his shoulder and sneered derisively at his unfounded claims.

"Yes and perhaps pigs fly. We might as well consider such a possibility since it has just as much evidence to support it as your theories. Consider yourself lucky I find your pathetic attempts to incriminate me amusing or else I'd see you hung for such slander. Now, out of my way." The boy said strolling past the man and towards where Sebastian was studying something on a bookshelf. He hoped the old git understood where they stood with one another, now he had flexed a little of his power. He could have Randall on the gallows if it suited him. He would not even need Sebastian to do it. He regarded his demon butler and was curious. "Have you found something?"

"Perhaps. It seems Sir Ranford is the victim of a 'frame-up' as the vernacular goes."

"And what could you have possibly found to support that idea?"

"On his desk, did you note how many pens there were?"

"Perhaps four or five."

"And inkpots?"

"Just one. Are you saying the number of pens and inkpots are suspicious?" Ciel said with palpable sarcasm undercutting his question. The demon smiled at him without even a flicker of anger.

"Not the number, Master, but the color. As you no doubt noticed, all Sir Ranford's letters and those of the other writer are written in the same black ink."

"Every noblemen in the land writes in black ink, Sebastian, hardly groundbreaking."

"Contained on this shelf are Sir Ranford's journals and accounting ledgers, all written in the same handwriting as the letters on the desk. There are also drafted letters of correspondence that match the handwriting found." Sebastian said passing him one of the leather-bound journals for inspection. Ciel leafed through the book, finding everything his butler had said to be true. However, he was also not ignorant of the fact all writing had been transcribed in blue ink throughout. The boy, realizing what Sebastian was alluding to, crossed back to the desk and used one of the fountain pens laid on the blotting surface. He scribbled on a blank page. The ink was blue. He tried another. Also blue. He dipped a finger into the ink pot and found this to be blue as well. After using another four pens, including one retrieved from a desk drawer, Ciel understood the demon's point: why would a man who writes in blue ink suddenly write a correspondence in black ink and, if he had, where had the black ink and pens come from if not his private office?

"You're saying the letters are forgeries?" Ciel said as Sebastian wiped his finger free of ink effortlessly. The butler nodded.

"Although they are very good reproductions that utilize the correct language and tone prevalent throughout Sir Ranford's other letters, they were not written by him. The notable curl on the 'r' and 'b' that appear to hallmarks of the man's handwriting style are too short and inconsistent. I would surmise that such documents have been created to offer motive and create a false trail for us to follow." The boy agreed with the demon's appraisal of the situation but did not show it. He considered.

"How likely is it that the murderer penned both sets of letters, both Sir Ernest's and the anonymous correspondent?"

"I would say very likely in this case, judging from what evidence I have seen." Sebastian said with a certainty that could only be interpreted as absolute. Ciel turned to look at Lord Randall who seemed to have been following their conversation in a state of bewilderment. It was clear the older man had not even ventured to query the letters against other examples, merely going at the staff's word they were the words of their master. He no doubt felt very foolish not to make the connection and rightly so in the boy's opinion. The man was incompetent.

"We're going to go to our lodgings now, Lord Randall. I daresay we shall return only when you have properly analyzed the crime scene instead of expecting us to do your work for you. Good day." Ciel said with a smug grin before walking out the room followed closely by Sebastian. Once they were in a cab bound for the London townhouse, the boy spoke frankly.

"It seems unlikely the murderer would make such an oversight as not writing the letters in blue ink, given the wealth of examples available. They would also have had to study the writings closely to mimic them so well. Their message to me suggests they expected us to notice such an obvious mistake."

"Yes. They wish us to give chase it seems. I wonder why when they could so easily escape undetected." The demon considered without taking his eyes off the boy. Ciel could not help get the impression that Sebastian did not want to hear his theories. All the butler seemed to be waiting for was the necessary order. The boy did not tease him with more idle chatter.

"Sebastian, I order you to examine Sir Ernest's home this evening after I have retired and bring all evidence pertinent to the case to my attention by morning. Once we have all the correct facts available for scrutiny, then we can find the murderer ourselves. If we left it to them, my earldom would be lost before the end of the week. Understood?"

Sebastian smiled whilst inclining his head. "Yes, My Lord."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Time to establish a shortlist of suspects for our protagonists to interrogate. Murder is not far behind. In this chapter, Ciel has an unsettling dream before Sebastian reveals the results of his nightly search. Enjoy.**

**Ciel and Sebastian**

**Distractions**

Ciel Phantomhive fell in unending darkness. He feared neither the dark nor the drop. He feared what waited for him once he hit the bottom, what evil would claim him once he came to a stop. The boy's rapid descent halted without warning and he was left standing in an overhead spotlight. The ground beneath his feet was composed of black and white squares, not unlike a chess board. He suddenly felt something heavy settle on his head and reached up to examine it. It was a crown. Peering out into the blackness all around revealed nothing. Then glowing red eyes materialized directly in front of him. Sentiment was impossible to read or absent as Ciel regarded them in silence.

"_All your pieces have fallen in protection of your crown, My King." _Sebastian's voice echoed in the dark. _"Fear not though. I am still here." _The boy bowed his head and smirked.

"But are you on my side?" Ciel asked. Lean fingers came to rest on his shoulder.

"_Always, Master. It is time for your last rival to fall at your feet. Only then will you claim victory. Are you ready for the end of things?" _Sebastian's voice inquired from close to his left ear. The boy nodded.

"Bring him so I can make the last kill of my life." Ciel said, knowing once this final act had been completed, the evil he so feared would claim his soul and settle their debt. The youth unsheathed his sword from the scabbard at his hip and awaited his foe's appearance. A second spotlight cast light on a faceless man's bound and gagged form as he lay helpless on the floor. Despite his lack of features and overall grey colour, the faceless man sported a gold crown that identified him as the other king, the mastermind. Ciel approached him slowly. The lean fingers never left his shoulder, following him the whole way. Without a second thought, the boy prepared to deliver a fatal blow, deciding on the heart as his point of attack.

"_Are you prepared for what lies ahead of you, once this deed is done?" _Sebastian's voice asked. Ciel nodded. _"Then please fulfil your destiny." _

The tip of Ciel's rapier made silent contact with the soft body of his enemy but did not pierce the skin. Once satisfied of the angle and trajectory needed to ensure the swiftest of kills, the boy drew his arm back and readied himself to thrust forward. One sharp intake of breath later and he thrust the blade forward. A fraction of a second before the blade cut through the man's flesh like butter, Ciel felt lean fingers hold his arm steady and kill all his momentum. He glanced over to his right and found Sebastian in his butler's uniform smiling blankly. The boy glared at him.

"Why are you stopping me? This is what you want. Do you not want my soul any longer?"

"_I want what you want, My Lord, a challenge. Are you so eager for the chase to end on so meagre a note? Do you not seek a more glorious end to your existence beyond killing a faceless enemy that cannot defend itself?"_

"I want my vengeance, no matter what form it takes. Whether I kill them like this or in a grand battle, the end result is the same: I win and then, you will too."

"_Hollow victories are unbefitting to someone of your station, Master. You shall not have your revenge today." _Sebastian said knocking the sword from his hand with consummate ease. _"We shall let them meet us in more fitting circumstances, as is proper." _The demon added as he released the faceless king from his bonds and gestured for him to flee into the blackness. Ciel attempted to grab his elusive foe only to be thwarted by his butler's grip and inadequate length of his own arms.

"I order you to let me gain my revenge!" The boy snapped as he watched his enemy melt into the dark. He could hear footfalls of a man in flight and knew there was still a chance to catch them before it was too late. Sebastian shook his head.

"_Not today, Master. Another time."_

"I ORDER YOU TO RELEASE ME!" Ciel practically screamed in the demon's ear. Sebastian ignored him. His cruelty knew no bounds. The butler nodded affirmatively whilst staring into the dark.

"_Another time…"_

Ciel woke up pointing his revolver at Sebastian's face. He glared at the demon, long and hard until he was sure he was facing reality and not just another kind of nightmare. Sebastian waited patiently, not venturing to utter a single word until the boy lowered his pistol. Ciel did so reluctantly and was certain his butler took some kind of twisted pleasure in seeing him yield. There was nothing on his face, just a gut feeling the boy had that would not disappear. Sebastian smiled.

"Another time perhaps." He offered in a haunting echo to the nightmare still fresh in his master's head. Ciel shook off the chill hearing those words gave him before issuing a typical reply for just waking.

"Where's my morning tea?" The boy said, slipping his revolver back under the pillow as he sat up properly instead just on his elbow. Sebastian draped a dressing gown over his shoulders before turning to his right. He returned with a freshly brewed cup and saucer.

"This morning is a black leaf English rose tea. I thought you might enjoy something sweet and fragrant whilst I reveal the particulars of last night's investigation." The demon replied as Ciel closed his fingers around the saucer plate and Sebastian deftly removed his own in one fluid motion. The boy shrugged.

"Whatever. What did you find out?"

"I was able to confirm Sir Ranford is innocent of his dubious reputation and has been since it first emerged some fifteen years ago." The butler said bringing his arms back to his sides and adopting an attentive stance for further work. Ciel sipped his tea before any kind of verbal response.

"What evidence did you find to confirm this?"

"Sir Ranford's journal entries suggest a slow decline into senility was upon him. His final entries speak of a man barely aware of what day it was, let alone the month or year. This degeneration of mental faculties is apparent in journals dating back more than eight years. He speaks of forgetting things, then of forgetting people and memories, places and years gone by. He was incapable of the level of deviousness required in the recent letters. It alludes to the idea someone was impersonating Sir Ranford and then building criminal connections under this false identity."

"How did you arrive at fifteen years when you only have proof of eight for his decline?"

"A cross-reference of other documents detailing his behaviour at various social gatherings and occasions prior to the known journal entries. Would you care for the particulars?"

"I'm more interested in a credible suspect for the framing and the murder itself. Do you have candidates or not?"

"One thing about human nature is that one can always fit a description of characteristics or traits to somebody. As of this morning, there are seven likely suspects. But only three of them have ties to your family. You would care for the particulars on them now, wouldn't you, young master?" Sebastian said with a tone that could almost be mistaken for condescendence. Ciel flirted with the idea of throwing his tea in the demon's face again, but knew it had no effect on his mood. Instead, the boy closed his eyes and smiled.

"You never tire of teasing me, do you?" He said sipping his tea again.

"No, but only because you need me to in order to maintain your humility. Without such balance, I daresay you would far less pleasant in Lady Elizabeth's company." The butler answered with a casualness his master did not appreciate. He loathed any conversation where Sebastian attempted to impose himself on his and Elizabeth's betrothal, since the demon had no concept of love beyond that of theories. He opened his eyes again.

"Tell me of these three suspects of yours and their ties to my family."

"The first is Earl Walmsey whose family was closely aligned with your own during the time of your grandfather, but was subjected to a radical dissolution after disputes concerning land and property when your predecessor had just been born. He is known to have spent an inordinate amount of time with Sir Ranford at his country estate in Wiltshire prior to returning to London last week. At present he is staying with relatives in Chelsea."

"I've heard of him. He's also out of favour with high society at present due to rumours of criminal activity. They believe opium. No proof though. The timing seems suspicious enough on its own. And the other two?"

"Sir Talbot Buxley, another of Her Majesty's favourites and by all accounts a very popular and gregarious man with no real dark past to himself. We even had him as a guest at the manor during the last season."

"Then why is Sir Talbot a suspect?"

"Sir Ranford shared a long correspondence with him, dating back almost two decades. Letters from Sir Buxley found in Ranford's study show…"

"What did you say? His name is Sir Ranford to you, and nothing else. Do not feel you have any right to omit his title when speaking. Even in death, a butler and a knight are not equal." Ciel said with a scowl at the demon's lack of etiquette and respect. Sebastian smiled.

"Of course. Please forgive me for my transgression. I meant it as a test to ensure you were not too consumed with this investigation to recognise folly." The butler offered with a bow that did not have any sincerity attached to it. The boy glared at him irritably.

"Do not 'test' me or my patience during a murder investigation, Sebastian. Just do your job as ordered. Where do my family enter into your theory concerning Sir Talbot?"

"He seems to have kept a very close eye on the Phantomhive family over the last fifteen years and his letters are replete with references to your parents' marriage, your birth and many of your milestones growing up. He even documents your disappearance, convinced from the beginning it was not the result of the fire but a kidnapping. Even with Sir Ranford's mind ailing badly, Sir Buxley kept him abreast of your recent implication in Siemens' murder at the manor. His interest in your family and the time frame of fifteen years is not merely that of a gossiper. Prior to your predecessor's rise to power, he expressed little interest in the activities of your family. He is also in London, staying near Clapham Common in his townhouse."

"He sounds a very promising suspect, given his odd charting of my family's triumphs and disasters with such morbid regularity. Who is your final suspect?" Ciel inquired sipping his tea only to find it had gone cold due to his involvement in Sebastian's narrative. He put it onto the bedside table. The demon regarded him with an expression that could have been excitement or trepidation before speaking.

"Relatives of the Midford family are potentially involved given what I have uncovered." Ciel felt his blood run cold at the sound of his fiancée's family having some link to a crime of this nature. He also could not help but lean forward to pose his question.

"Elizabeth's family are possible killers?"

"Relatives of her family may be responsible, not the Midfords themselves." Sebastian replied, stressing the importance of the word 'relatives'. Ciel composed himself and considered the implications.

"So, we are talking about the Marquis' side of the family. I was not aware he had any siblings to speak of."

"According to records, he does not. However, a Lord Harold Winslow, a nobleman with ties to the Marquis in business and social circles is known to be a distant cousin of sorts. He is also known to have oversight in Sir Ranford's financial ventures as a manager and would stand to gain a great deal of wealth and land in the event of Sir Ranford's death as detailed in a new draft of his will dated last year. Prior to this alteration, Lord Winslow was due to inherit anything of note beyond debt from Sir Ranford's estate."

"His link to my family seems awfully tenuous, given that the anonymous writer specifically targeted me in his letters. Surely you have more concrete evidence of his possible involvement?"

"Known underworld connections say he is acutely aware of your position as the Queen's Guard Dog, being something of a dark agent himself. Whereas you contend with Her Majesty's domestic problems, Lord Winslow dabbles in a novel form of foreign policy in the Queen's colonies, mostly India."

"Where are these 'underworld connections' you have scrutinised and why have they divulged such sensitive information when even I was not aware of his operations for the Crown?"

"The answer to your first question is those low-level individuals in the right place at the right time to hear sensitive information. They are nobody special, chiefly pickpockets and cutthroats. The answer to your second question is one you should be aware of, given you use similar tools to get the same results. They divulge information because money is all that matters to them."

"If he's a servant of Her Majesty like me, what possible reason could he have for engaging me in such a complicated game? Why murder a favourite of the Queen to begin with for that matter?" The boy pointed out. The demon answered without any kind of reflection, seeming to believe his answer wholeheartedly.

"Greed and power are the strongest of drives where human frailties are concerned, especially amongst the elite where status is directly attributed to the size of your fortune and influence. It seems only natural he wishes to be Her Majesty's only shadowy dependant. Corruption is a necessity to achieving such a goal, as is murder."

"Perhaps, but it still seems unlikely he chose to murder a senile old man in order to engage me in a battle of wits. From what you have said, I believe we will begin with Earl Walmsey since he had the most recent contact with Sir Ernest prior to his death. Draw me a bath. I want to leave within the next hour."

"Yes, My Lord."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: First suspect to question, Earl Walmsey. Leads on to bigger things. Enjoy.**

**Ciel and Sebastian 5**

**Feud**

"The bastard's doing this on purpose." Ciel commented as he and Sebastian sat waiting in the parlour for Earl Walmsey to arrive. "This isn't even his residence so I have no idea how he believes it is appropriate to leave guests waiting for half-an-hour."

"Perhaps he is hiding something and wishes to ensure we do not find any trace of it." Sebastian offered whilst opening the bag he brought with them from the townhouse. Inside was an already brewed teapot on a portable hotplate as well as cups and saucers. "Would you care for some tea and refreshments while we are sequestered in this place? I have a fine Darjeeling for your enjoyment if it might lift your mood." The boy sighed.

"I suppose I might as well. It was elevenses two minutes ago. I deplore poor hosting skills in a man supposedly of nobility. What cakes did you bring?"

"In keeping with the tea, I have prepared a selection of Darjeeling teacakes." Ciel was unimpressed by the demon's lack of creativity. He had no time for teacakes, especially if they barely qualified as a sweet. He sighed again.

"Well, what flush is the tea?"

"I thought First Flush might be the most appropriate, considering spring is only around the corner." Sebastian replied passing him a poured cup of the greenish tea and a couple of very dry-looking teacakes. The boy reluctantly took ownership of them and could not help but sigh for a third time in as many breaths.

"I wish it would get here sooner. I despise the cold." Ciel mused sipping his tea. It was agreeable enough, though he preferred Second Flush regardless of season. He bite into one the teacakes shortly after, discovering to his surprise it was moist and tasty in spite of its austere appearance. He nodded. "I suppose they're alright for the circumstances." The boy said indicating the cakes to his butler.

"Well, I see my hospitality is wasted on you, Earl Phantomhive." Earl Walmsey said with a rough edge to his voice. Ciel looked up from the rim of his cup to see their supposed host stood by the grand staircase flanked by two pastry chefs and a maid accompanying a laden tea trolley. Both chefs held platters piled high with cakes in their hands while the selection of teas on offer ran the gamut of possibilities. "I take it you find my selections poor?" Ciel smirked at the accusative remark and closed his eyes.

"It's not the only thing about you I find to be poor, Earl Walmsey. Do you keep all your guests waiting or am I a special case?"

Earl Walmsey, a young man of around thirty with golden-brown hair and a smooth, clean-shaven face, glared at the boy with a hate so raw and insurmountable that Ciel knew it had probably been ingrained from birth. With such bitterness between them, he knew obtaining any credible information would be a bonus.

"I'm sure you know you're always a special case, Earl Phantomhive. Every member of your family is. Now, what do you want besides an opportunity to pin Sir Ernest's death on me?" Walmsey practically spat. Ciel closed his eyes and centred himself before replying.

"Oh, I didn't come here for anything else besides confirmation of your guilt, Earl Walmsey. Either explain to me how you're innocent of such a crime or be prepared for a lifetime of hounding until you confess just to keep your sanity intact." Ciel said coolly as he opened his eyes to study their host's reactions to such threats. The man seemed unmoved by it all. Thus far, he seemed a perfect candidate.

"Well then, I suppose we should move to the drawing room to discuss this matter in privacy. Come."

Once settled in the much more appropriate grandeur of the drawing room, Ciel wasted no time in getting straight to the most pertinent questions.

"Where were you two nights ago when Sir Ernest was poisoned?"

"I had nothing to do…"

"Answer the question you're given or don't bother speaking at all." The boy said curtly. Walmsey narrowed his eyes,

"How dare you. I don't see what business it is of yours anyway. You're not part of the Yard."

"No, I'm not. However, if you don't answer my questions now, they will ask you them later and without my open mind." Ciel countered with a smile he hoped reflected his delight at such a fate befalling the man in front of him. Walmsey smirked before leaning back in his chair.

"Did the old bat send you on an errand like she does all your family? Is that the real reason you're investigating this crime?" He asked, now seeming to be returning the favour on obnoxious behaviour. Ciel bit his tongue before venturing a reply. Slander against the Queen always cut deep, particularly when he had devoted his entire life to her service. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"I'll pretend you did not say that blasphemy about our sovereign if you will just answer the question put to you before I lose my patience."

"I was here. My friends, who own his property, will attest to that and the fact I was here all night." Walmsey said finally. Ciel rolled his eyes at such a flimsy alibi.

"I'm sure they would. I understand you've spent a lot of time in Sir Ernest's company recently. You were sighted at his country home in Wiltshire not long ago. Have you always been such firm friends?"

"I liked the old loon. He might have been soft in the head, but he knew how to have a good time. He invited me to his country house after I did him a favour in the business world." Walmsey explained, giving his guest a chance to kill two birds with one stone in posing his next question.

"Supply him with opium, did you?"

"How many times must I say it? I have nothing to do with the opium trade in London. That entire angle was a fabrication to discredit my reputation and bankrupt my legitimate businesses. Knowing your family, you were the probably the one who started it." Ciel knew that was a lie before he had even finished his first sentence. The entire rhetoric was too rehearsed and Walmsey was too nonplussed for it to not be a lie. Rumours were true. The boy had established a credible line of inquiry to pursue. He decided to push.

"Let's lay our cards on the table, shall we? You obviously know what my family does in service of the realm. I am the Queen's Guard Dog. As such, I command a vast network of underground contacts to exploit for information and the elimination of troublesome individuals that threaten my work. You are an opium magnate with controlling interests in half of London judging by the gregarious nature of your so-called 'friends' in letting you stay in such magnificent surroundings, some of which exceed the décor of your main residence by some way. Since nobody in our circle will touch you, much less house you for a time, I am assuming your friends are 'business associates' or criminals as they're more commonly known." Ciel said whilst standing up and closing the gap between them. He leaned in close.

"You may hate my family because of some antiquated dispute, but you must respect the damage we can cause if pressed. Lie to me even once more, and I will ensure everything you run in London with regards to drugs will dry up. Your pushers will disappear and your trade will die. After that, the wealth will follow. I know without your illicit side-line, you have no assets. If I cut off the opium, it will be like cutting an artery. It will bleed and bleed until nothing remains. Your death will be the only way this stops if things get that far. Do we understand each other, Walmsey?" The boy hoped his point was well made. Judging from the man's pallid face and wide eyes, it was. Walmsey nodded.

"Yes, Earl Phantomhive, we understand each other very well."

The rest of the conversation was free of any showboating or crowing. Walmsey answered the questions put to him and he answered concisely. It became abundantly clear to Ciel as the narrative progressed that Walmsey had no cunning or deviousness to speak of. His trade in opium was as a figurehead only since he had neither the capital nor business acumen to contribute in useful means. He provided the opium dealers and suppliers with a legitimate front for them to operate behind. But in recent months, that credible front was being to crumble under Walmsey's clumsiness and irrational hatred of the Phantomhive family. His refusal to participate in any event that involved Ciel or his estate had meant isolation and loneliness for Walmsey. To offset this, the man had offered to cut other members of nobility into his business for a percentage of the profits, exposing his illicit trade and alienating him further from the crowd. Ciel believed his alibi. He believed what he saw on the surface ran all the way through him. Walmsey was a blowhard and a weasel, desperate to be adored and liked by his peers. He had nothing in him to suggest he was hiding anything. He was so desperate to breach the ring of steel he had entrapped himself in that he reached out to Ranford, despite his total lack of influence and cognisance. Walmsey was not the murderer it seemed.

Pressing for the names of his business associates proved difficult since Walmsey claimed not to know any of their last names or even to have seen their faces. When asked about the letters, Walmsey's face was genuinely blank. He knew nothing of them. He knew little of anything. Deflated but satisfied he had exhausted any possible suspicion of Walmsey through his inquiries, Ciel and Sebastian left the townhouse and set off in a carriage for Sir Talbot Buxley's current whereabouts in Clapham Common.

"Are you suddenly mute, Sebastian?" Ciel asked as the carriage turned a corner and proceeded west. The demon regarded him with a quizzical expression.

"Young Master?"

"You said nothing the whole time I was interrogating Walmsey. Why not?"

"There was no need for me to speak, My Lord. You had everything well in hand."

"Still, I would prefer it if you say something."

"Why is that?"

"You have a way of intimidating people that works to our advantage, especially in an investigation that involves criminals."

"With all due respect, Sir, after your display with Earl Walmsey, I would say you have a similar talent for coercion." The demon said with a blank smile. Ciel smiled back.

"I'm very glad for your inability to lie to me, Sebastian. I never have to read between the lines when you speak to me."

"It seems it is human nature to hold something in reserve, in case leverage is needed later. I daresay you will have to do a fair bit of close reading with Sir Buxley." Sebastian whilst looking out the window. Ciel scoffed.

"Why is that?"

"Because I'm certain I just heard a women say he had been murdered moments ago." The butler said in the same unhurried tone and persisting in scrutinising the world outside the carriage. Ciel blinked in surprise before managing a response.

"Where did you hear that?"

"From just ahead of us. We are within feet of his residence in Clapham Common now."

They exited the carriage to a chaotic scene outside of Sir Talbot's townhouse. A sizeable crowd of onlookers and police officers were gathered in front of the door where a hysterical woman in a maid's uniform was sobbing and shrieking about find her master dead in a pool of blood. Ciel turned from the madness to Sebastian.

"Do you have a description of Sir Talbot?"

"Yes, why?"

"We need to identify the body as his before I entertain any thoughts of our murderer now patching holes in making his escape from justice."

"Yes, My Lord."

With that, the pair waded through the crowd and entered the house. They found a man's body sprawled by the mantelpiece in the living room. A knife had been thrust through the man's right eye and blood formed a perfect halo around the top of his head. The demon crouched down and examined the body as Ciel turns his efforts to the room itself. There were two glasses of brandy on the table, indicating there had been two individuals drinking in the room. A half-smoked cigar was on the floor close to the body. It had been partially crushed by a shoe heel and the imprint remained. Disarranged furniture to the right of the body pointed to a struggle between the victim and his killer. A blood spatter on one of the chair arms hinted at the possibility the victim may have injured the perpetrator. The boy turned back to Sebastian.

"Is it Sir Talbot?"

"Yes."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, I am. The description I have of him came from a photograph. This is Sir Talbot Buxley and he is dead."

"Is there anything on him that might identify the killer?"

"Perhaps." The demon said producing a folded piece of paper from the corpse's jacket pocket. Ciel opened it:

GOOD MOVE, CIEL.

BUT WE CAN BOTH AGREE, MINE'S BETTER.

I STILL WAIT.

Ciel smiled at the note. "Not for much longer."


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Buoyed by positive comments on the story's current plot arc and progression, here is more. Ciel and Sebastian investigate the crime scene of Sir Talbot Buxley and make significant inroads into profiling their murderer. Enjoy.**

**Ciel and Sebastian 6**

**Counterattack**

Ciel knew immediately what he was dealing with when confronted with Sir Talbot's corpse. He was facing a lead, one he could use to great effect if exploited correctly. He passed Sebastian the note. The demon studied it for a few moments and then smiled as if the entire scenario were some amusing farce.

"My, my, what a game this is turning into. It seems you are not the only one who enjoys challenges."

"The murderer must have known we had shortlisted Sir Talbot as a suspect and that we had deciphered the initial clue from the letters in Sir Ernest's study to identify Sir Talbot to begin with." Ciel said as he examined the crushed cigar. It had been smoked, but there was no ashtray or ash anywhere in the room other than the fireplace. Furthermore, the end had been chewed off, not cut, indicating that it was not Sir Talbot who had smoked it. A gentleman of his upbringing would never deface such a cigar by biting the end off, like some sort of commoner. The boy heard Sebastian sigh.

"It does appear we have been manipulated to follow a rather specific path through this investigation. However, even if we had not identified Sir Buxley as a viable suspect, the note found on his body would have naturally led us to this crime scene." The butler said whilst gently sliding the knife out of the corpse's eye. Ciel scoffed whilst moving from the area where he found the cigar to the two glasses of brandy.

"We don't know that the killer would have left such a note or even have murdered Sir Talbot if we had not been so close to questioning him. I think the murderer has been following our efforts closely from the moment we arrived in London. It can't be coincidence that the man was silenced minutes before our arrival." The boy speculated, picking up one of the brandy glasses as he finished his theorising. There was a slight discoloration in the brandy that suggested it had been tampered with. The other glass did not share this anomaly and was almost empty. Ciel sniffed it and was again met with the distinct aroma of bitter almonds. "More cyanide. It seems like our killer was trying for subtlety and ran out of time."

"Yes, this does certainly seem like an opportunistic killing rather than methodically planned. Perhaps our murderer thought it would take us longer to finish questioning Earl Walmsey. The knife appears to have originated from the kitchen judging by its similarities to those we use in our own kitchen. I would surmise the murderer grabbed it on his way through the tradesman's entrance." Sebastian said holding out the bloody implement for the boy's inspection. Ciel noted the brain matter at the tip of the blade that told him death was instantaneous. The thrust and accuracy required to kill someone with such a narrow margin was not an ordinary skill. He nodded.

"That would fit with the commoner I have smoking a cigar in this room. Does the body have any defensive wounds?"

"No. And there are no other wounds on the body." Sebastian said getting to his feet. Ciel considered whilst gesturing to the blood-spattered chair.

"Then the blood spatter on the chair must belonged to the killer. Sir Talbot's size and build mean he could not easily be overpowered by even a handful of men, let alone one. Did you find any kind of weapon on the body that could have caused the spatter?"

"No. However, judging by the bruising on the knuckles of his right hand and the small amount of blood on the chair, it is feasible that Sir Buxley landed several telling blows on his assailant's face, one of which might have caused a cut or connected to the jaw."

"Everything we have discovered so far paints a picture of a tradesman well-known to Sir Talbot being invited into the living room to share a drink. This tradesman must be the killer as nobody seems to have seen him enter or leave the house and the evidence all points to a single individual perpetrating the murder. Perhaps Sir Talbot identified the cyanide in his glass, placed by the murderer before taking a sip. Perhaps he caught him in the act of spiking the drink and then launched into a scuffle. Sir Talbot gains the upper hand and the murderer knows time is too short to waste in a protracted encounter. He uses the knife and expertly kills Sir Talbot. He then places the note and slips out the house moments before the maid arrives." Ciel mused aloud before turning to his butler and awaiting a response. Sebastian's eyes flickered across the expanse of the room before the demon nodded in agreement.

"It does seem to be the most likely scenario at this point."

"We need to gather a list of known tradesmen that frequent this residence often enough to be on speaking terms with Sir Talbot. Sebastian, you interview the staff. I'm going to confirm your intelligence on Sir Talbot being obsessed with my family's business. Perhaps there's a clue we can find." The boy said whilst heading for the stairs. Without having to look, Ciel knew his butler would be bowing.

"Yes, My Lord."

Ciel let himself into Sir Talbot's study, knowing that it would only be a few more minutes before Randall and Scotland Yard would bungle onto the scene and begin to contaminate the evidence they needed. The boy found to have an eerie similarity to his own office at the manor, both in décor and layout. As he rounded the desk and adopted the viewpoint of someone sitting behind the desk – an exact copy of his own antique oak heirloom – he was almost tricked into believing he was at home. It appeared Sir Talbot's obsession with his family extended beyond that of simply knowing their past and recent history, but included living part of it as well. The boy sat in the chair and opened the top drawer. He frowned when confronted with several loose documents that profiled not only himself but Sebastian and the other Phantomhive servants as well. The detail was excruciating. He also did not like that all this sensitive information was not secured away.

_This proves fixation, not obsession _Ciel thought as he stood back up and scanned the nearby bookshelf,_ but maybe something in his journal will._ He grabbed the most recent journal and was immediately confronted with bloody fingerprints on the cover. He quickly flicked through the journal and found the three most recent entries had been torn out. _Why am I even surprised_? Ciel wandered from the study and entered the bedroom, another exact copy of his own, before approaching the open window. The boy carefully peered out and found a wall intersecting the back of the townhouse roughly five feet down. The wall led straight onto a back alley behind some of the affluent tenements and exited onto an adjoining side street. It was a relatively easy escape since there were trees obstructing the view on the public side of the wall whilst the property side had no windows facing directly onto the wall. This was confirmed when Ciel spotted more blood on the top of wall. _You were still here _the boy mused as he observed the blood, _while we were occupied downstairs, you fled out the window after destroying evidence._ Ciel smirked and nodded. "Yes, your move is much better. Bravo."

"Whom are you addressing, Young Master?" Sebastian inquired from the doorway. The boy turned towards the demon and smiled.

"Our murderer. He's gambling without any collateral at all and still winning against the odds. Did you know he was here when we were downstairs? He must really think we're stupid if he's willing to take such a risk."

"Forgive me, Sir, but I believe he respects you too much to make the game anticlimactic. I have a list of the tradesmen as you requested. All of them have had a business arrangement with Sir Buxley for more than two decades, except one who seemed to turn up only two weeks ago to replace a Mr. Harold Webb, the long-time tailor of Sir Buxley, when he left London on urgent family business." The butler said to instantly furnish Ciel with the information he wanted to further piece the plethora of clues together. The boy sighed lethargically.

"Well, it's safe to assume he'll turn up dead in due course. Our murderer has obviously been planning this little maze we're running for some time if he has spent time forging close ties with the victims. I imagine he shared Sir Talbot's fascination with all things Phantomhive in order to bond with the man to such a high degree in so short a space of time. Have you seen this décor?"

"Well, it is humbling to have my designs copied to such a finite degree. Sir Buxley could at least recognise good taste when he saw it." The demon responded with a trace of arrogance when he was entitled to so much more conceit. Ciel had always liked his constant companion's restraint in that regard. It was almost admirable. Still, he rolled his eyes derisively.

"Don't flatter yourself too much, Sebastian. You'll only get into bad habits. The killer must know we intend to go to Lord Winslow now since he is the last of our suspects. I would expect him to leave us more breadcrumbs to follow when we arrive. In the meantime, I think Sir Talbot's missing journal pages likely hold the key to the murderer's identity. There's very little reason to remove them otherwise. Since Sir Talbot has a particularly heavy line when writing, I would assume an impression of the last of the missing pages has been left on the page underneath. Copy it out for me so we can read it properly."` The boy said handing him the journal. Sebastian inclined his head.

"Yes, My Lord."

"Did you get a name for the replacement tailor for us to investigate further?" Ciel asked as they travelled by carriage back to the townhouse. Sebastian answered fully, despite simultaneously writing on one piece of paper whilst scribbling over the journal's impression with the other.

"Yes. The maid said he called himself Warren Loughby. She seemed to believe he had a shop near Piccadilly, however, having frequented that area many times when collecting your own clothes, I am only aware of a draper's shop. The owner of that draper's shop is a gentleman named Warren _Lawry_."

"Is there a particular reason you know so much about that draper's shop?" Ciel inquired with a genuine curiosity in his butler's local knowledge of such minor businesses. Sebastian glanced up from his work and adopted a smile that was almost warm in its presentation.

"Mr. Lawry is a fine draper. I often purchase cloth to repair my clothes from there when it is necessary. He very kindly offers me a discount on the weight of your reputation alone." The demon explained. The boy appreciated his diligence in never missing an opportunity to massage his master's ego. He gifted his servant a mischievous smile when posing his next query.

"And is he a possible suspect?"

"Not at an age of seventy-eight, Sir. It is more conceivable our mysterious tailor used a name similar to Mr Lawry's in order to make himself appear vaguely credible. It would not take much to do so. Shall I go investigate?" Sebastian offered already shifting to the carriage door. Ciel held out a hand to stop him.

"Don't bother. For once, your word is good enough. What time is it?"

Sebastian briefly glanced at his pocket watch. "Shortly after six, Sir."

"And is dinner ready or have you forgotten about it?" The boy asked almost light-heartedly to shift the conversation away from the macabre for the day. Sebastian closed his eyes and answered in his usual unhurried, even tone.

"I took the liberty of making all the necessary preparations for this evening's meal prior to waking you. I believe you will be most satisfied with tonight's three courses."

Dinner was a gastronomic delight, as expected. Ciel made sure to call his butler's efforts passable to keep him honest. Conversation was light between them. Sebastian had received word that Lord Randall had regained his self-righteous indignation since the morning and was demanding an audience with Ciel as soon as possible. This attempt at harrying was wholly ignored and even forgotten by dessert, after which the boy decided to retire for the night. He was fatigued by the day's exertions and needed sleep to prepare for tomorrow's events, which promised to be just as unexpected and trying as today if not more. One thing that could not be denied though, was the exhilaration he felt from the challenge before him. The rush was so euphoric it was almost addictive. Almost.

"I have successfully transcribed the journal entry, Master." Sebastian said as he finished buttoning the boy's nightshirt, "Would you like to hear what it says?"

"Not now. As much as I wish the Queen's test to be concluded as swiftly as possible, I want to sleep more and without the burden of further intrigue to plague my dreams." Ciel announced as he was guided under the covers by the demon's strong hands.

"Very well, Young Master. Is there any task you wish me to perform this evening whilst you sleep?"

"Contact Tanaka and ensure he and the others are maintaining a constant watch on the manor and its grounds. I have a feeling that our murderer is not only watching us in London, but is also looking to exploit weaknesses at home. We cannot have them worming their way through cracks in our armour." The boy said removing his eyepatch before getting comfortable. Sebastian placed the patch on the bedside table before adjusting the covers.

"Certainly, Sir. Anything else?"

"I would like a thorough bath and haircut tomorrow morning. If we are to meet Lord Winslow tomorrow, I wish to make him look slovenly when we are stood together." Ciel said gazing up as the demon took control of the candelabra in preparation to excuse himself.

"I will ensure your clothes are ironed and starched to perfection in preparation, Sir. Will that be all?"

"Make sure he doesn't turn up dead before we question him. That's all."

"Yes, My Lord. Good night."


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Going for another two to three chapters following this one to give the mystery some legs. Ciel and Sebastian prepare for an audience with Lord Harold Winslow, the only suspect left on their shortlist to question. Enjoy.**

**Ciel and Sebastian 7**

"You know I think blue is my favourite colour." Ciel said aloud as Sebastian finished fastening the shorts of his powder blue suit around his waist. The demon looked up from his knelt position and smiled.

"Do you really, Sir?" Sebastian said in a tone that did not try to hide its sarcasm. He guided the boy's arms into his pin-striped green waistcoat and began to carefully button it from the bottom up. "I myself always found you did exceptionally well in brown, despite its reputation as a very drab and plain colour."

"I like brown too. I just think I like blue more. It does suit me doesn't it? That's why you're dressing me in it to meet Lord Winslow, correct?" Ciel asked, unsure whether he meant it condescendingly or not, as Sebastian took first took hold of a green ribbon from the table and then changed his mind, selecting a navy-coloured variety instead.

"You have a noble bearing regardless of what colour scheme is employed, Young Master…as long as it is not red…or yellow." The demon insisted whilst tying the ribbon delicately around his master's neck with a fluidity and grace that could only originate from centuries of practice. Ciel was aware of Sebastian dislike of bold colour palettes and the butler's sentiment that such things made him look child-like and small.

"That's good to know. I hope Lord Winslow is similarly impressed with my bearing. As far as I know, I've never met him before, have I?" The boy checked as the bow was tightened until the knot was firm. Sebastian shook his head as he unrolled a pair of navy socks identical in hue to the bow and took hold of one of the boy's legs at the ankle.

"No, My Lord. Although his name appears frequently when we are composing a suitable guest list for your official functions and parties, he has thus far never attended, although his butler has always passed on his apologies." The demon said slipping the sock over the foot and gently pulled it up before fastening it off at the knee. He began to repeat the task on the other foot only for Ciel to consider something that prompted him to jam his foot against Sebastian's shoulder and impede his work.

"I'm curious, Sebastian. Do you like dressing me in the morning?" The boy asked to earn a frown from the demon.

"Young Master?"

"You know I watch you constantly, whenever your task brings you in close proximity to my person, and you seem to enjoy this activity more than others. I just wondered whether you liked dressing me." Sebastian responded to this by closing his eyes, smiling and then taking a relaxed hold of his master's wayward foot and resuming his task.

"We cannot have you cavort around the manor naked, nor can we have you run around London in shambles. Your image is perhaps the most important aspect of my job as your butler." The demon explained without any kind of forethought as he finished tying off the other sock. "But in response to your question, I enjoy dressing you very much. Regardless of your dislike for familiarity and childish labels, I still think of you as my little lord." Sebastian let that remark hang in the air between them. It seemed to Ciel as if the demon were attempting to gauge his mood for the day by giving him something to snap at, like a fisherman would a fish with a lure. The boy sneered.

"Can I expect Lord Winslow to be as patronising?"

"I daresay so. Lord Winslow is surprisingly fond of children, despite not having any of his own. He often plays games with the children at the orphanages and workhouses in Whitechapel after making charitable contributions to such institutions. In fact that is where I have arranged for us to meet him as that is the only reason he is visiting the city today. It is an orphanage called Rosewood House not far from here. If we are not careful with your appearance, he may mistake you for one of the children." Sebastian said with an amused smile at the possibly. Ciel smiled too. He found it surprisingly easy to smile in the demon's company, far easier than it ought to have been.

"I see. Tell me about the final journal entry impression you deciphered." The boy said as his feet were neatly tucked into his absurdly clean and buffed shoes.

"It was a most enlightening glimpse into the mind of a human consumed by a singular obsession, that of your family. It would appear Sir Buxley would begin every entry with a countdown of sorts to the latest event in your social calendar, after which he would speculate on what leverage or advantage could be gained by your family from attending such a function. He was most adept at such predictions, judging by previous entries. For instance, he correctly guessed that the murders at the manor were to dispose of Mr Woodley and prompt Professor Doyle into continuing his novel series." Ciel had to admit to his interest being piqued at that particular prediction coming to pass. He stood up and extended his arms out as Sebastian manoeuvred behind him with his frock coat.

"So what did this latest entry speculate on?" The boy asked as an arm was guided into one of the sleeves.

"What the reason was for your involvement in investigating Sir Ranford's murder and why the Queen would employ you to do so." The demon said as he adjusted the coat on the youth's shoulders before letting go and moving away entirely.

"And his conclusions?" Ciel asked turning to face his butler to allow him to correctly position the eyepatch.

"Sir Buxley surmised an intriguing theory, one that involved Lord Winslow attempting to prove you were inept in your current role as the Queen's Guard Dog by orchestrating Sir Ranford's murder and presenting you with near impossible clues to trace the killer. Sir Buxley assumes Lord Winslow's motives stem from his lack of enthusiasm for his current role in foreign affairs. He assumes the man is after your family's job and will have the true murderer killed after you have failed and will then claim the role of domestic Queen's Guard Dog for himself." Sebastian said tying the knot so that it lined up perfectly with the centre of his master's head. Ciel conceded the interesting supposition involving Lord Winslow could be feasible, given the stressful and competitive nature of their roles. He regarded Sebastian.

"I take it Sir Talbot cites no evidence whatsoever to substantiate his theories?"

"Not that we are aware of. However, it is possible that his killer, Warren Loughby, may have taken such proof with him during his escape."

"That would explain the open top drawer in Sir Talbot's office. There were grooves on the face of the drawer. I thought he had just left it unlocked as the key was under the blotting just as I keep mine, but perhaps it was forced open with a crowbar or a jimmy. There may have been other sensitive documents other than profiles of our household inside before my arrival upstairs." Ciel mused before dismissing the idea with a hand gesture. "But it's just a theory, and a dead man's theory at that. When we meet Lord Winslow, we need to ascertain proof of his involvement to support this theory or else it is immaterial."

"The fact Sir Buxley was killed and someone attempted to erase the existence of this theory post-mortem suggests he was not far from the truth of the matter." Sebastian pointed out quite correctly. Ciel crossed the room to grab his favourite cane and considered.

"That's true, but the fact remains that without proof, we cannot accuse anyone of anything. So I suggest we meet Lord Winslow as soon as possible." The boy counter indicating for Sebastian to follow him out the door.

"And Lord Randall's request?" Sebastian inquired to incite the biggest and most tired of sighs from his master. Randall. Always Randall to ruin an opportunity to surge forward in these games. He was like an overzealous referee or umpire, seeing fouls or rule infringements where none existed and punishing players regardless. The boy closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"That man will throw anything at me but a request. I suppose he wants our input into Sir Talbot's murder?"

"His 'request' did hint at that possibility. How should I respond?"

"I suppose we can arrange to meet him after our business with Lord Winslow is concluded. Perhaps he may even be in a position to do something useful if we get corroborating evidence to support Sir Talbot's claims." Ciel said resuming his course downstairs shadowed closely by the demon's steady footsteps.

"Am I to infer you do not wish for breakfast this morning?" Sebastian said as he fastened the boy's cloak in the foyer and passed his top hat from the stand. Ciel smirked.

"As if you would permit me such an indulgence with my slight frame. Pack it for eating on the move. I'll sample it in the carriage ride to Rosewood House. I take you've already prepared lunch in the same vein?"

"Yes, My Lord. I shall return with your portable breakfast shortly."

They arrived at Rosewood House shortly after eleven. The iron gates were open and children played freely in the courtyard. While Sebastian excused himself to engage the services of a courier to pass word to Lord Randall, Ciel stood outside the gate watching children his age or thereabouts play games he vaguely recalled from his own recent past. They all wore expressions of happy and carefree abandonment as they ran and laughed with one another. Ciel could not help but envy their ignorance of the world outside the gates and the misery it waited to unleash upon them.

"Do you wish you could join them, Sir?" Sebastian said from close behind him. Ciel sneered at the suggestion.

"I would not trade back the truth in return for my innocence, not now."

"Would you make them sacrifice theirs for that truth? If Lord Winslow proves to be our mastermind that will become a reality, once his funding is cut." The butler said with an air of curiosity but not a trace of true concern for preservation of childhood purity. It was typical for a demon. Ciel shrugged.

"Hopefully in that scenario, it will not come to that. We can pick up the slack."

"As we intended to with Renbourn Workhouse?" Sebastian asked. The boy visibly winced at the memory of that disgusting and traumatic encounter with Lord Kelvin and his lobotomised children. For a moment, he feared he might begin to retch but it passed. He collected himself.

"That…was different. We did not expect to be confronted with a complete maniac as a patriarch. In other circumstances, we might have helped them." Ciel said before clearing his throat. "Lord Winslow is inside I take it?"

"Yes."

"Have you sent word to Lord Randall?"

"Yes, Young Master."

"Are we punctual for this appointment?" The boy said to prompt the demon to examine his pocket watch.

"We are nine minutes early for our scheduled meeting, Sir."

"Excellent. Let's go get some answers."

"Yes, My Lord."

When they were met at the front door by staff, Ciel was briefly concerned they might address Sebastian instead of him, seeing as such people were used to dealing with children on a daily basis and had preconceptions about them that were not easily broken. Thankfully, they addressed all questions and greetings to him and wholly ignored the demon, treating the boy like an adult and Sebastian like an invisible shadow. Once inside, they were shown into one of the administrative offices and invited to take a seat whilst awaiting Lord Winslow's arrival from one of the playroom where he was rumoured to be engaged in a very intensive tea party surrounded by too many women to count.

"I enjoyed breakfast by the way." Ciel informed Sebastian as they whiled away the minutes.

"I am gratified, Master."

"Where on earth did you discover steak and avocado could serve as a first meal?"

"I do believe it was the colonies, where the two ingredients are sometimes cultivated side by side."

"I would like to see such a pairing more frequently in my diet, especially since you complain about the dearth of red meat I elect to eat on a weekly basis."

"I shall endeavour to add it to your weekly intake." Sebastian assured him as a tall, thin and gaunt man with a large moustache and cobalt eyes entered the room flanked by two blank-faced bodyguards. As soon as his eyes fell on Ciel, the man's face broke out into an infectious grin that neither Ciel nor Sebastian reacted to. He extended a large hand towards the boy.

"Hello, Earl Phantomhive! So nice to finally meet you at long last. I am Lord Harold Winslow." He said, grasping Ciel's hand warmly when the boy offered it for Lord Winslow to shake. The youth was immediately mistrustful of his overt kindness. It did not seem genuine or appropriate for the circumstances they were meeting under.

"I am very pleased to finally make your acquaintance as well, Lord Winslow." The man inclined his head graciously before settling his eyes on Sebastian.

"And I take it this upstanding gentleman would be your butler, Sebastian Michaelis. I have heard many wonderful things about his service to your household." Winslow said in the same earnest tone that had so far come to define his whole character. The demon bowed to him.

"Your flattery is not deserved, Lord Winslow, I am simply a butler and nothing more."

"That's not what I've heard." The man said to catch Ciel's attention. For an instance, Lord Winslow's tone had become one of open hostility before reverting to form. "But people in high society love to tell the tallest of tales! Still, I'm sure you do a wonderful job. These are my own trusty servants…" The man said turning to his two large minders, "Harris and Harlow." Ciel noticed very quickly that both men were identical twins with the same angular features and crop of blond hair atop of their heads. They were also of identical height and in possession of builds that projected them as both lean and lethal. They were comparable to Sebastian in those respects. One difference in the twins did stand out though. The one called Harlow had a swollen left cheek, indicating he had been struck by a right-hander not too long ago. The bruising was so fresh it was still purple and whoever had hit him must have been very strong to dent such a dangerous-looking man. The twins inclined their heads at Ciel who returned the gesture warily.

"They seem…very respectful servants."

"Oh, they are and loyal too. There isn't a thing they would not do to assist me if I asked." Winslow said with a smile that expressed more than pride. Ciel recognised thinly-veiled arrogance beneath the surface of the gesture as well as the man took up residence behind the desk. The boy smiled and nodded.

"I know the feeling. Sebastian is the same way. Shall we begin?"

"Oh, please do, Earl Phantomhive, please do."


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Not sure how this will play out, given what has come before, but we'll give it a go. Ciel confronts Winslow with his proof. Winslow retaliates with some proof of his own. When Ciel defaults to his usual problem-solver, things take an unexpected turn. Enjoy.**

**Ciel and Sebastian 8**

**Check**

"Would you care for a sweet at all?" Lord Winslow asked producing several colourful wrapped toffees from his coat pocket. Ciel regarded them in silence. Sebastian had been right about the man's patronising manner, however the boy had not expected it to appear so quickly. He declined the offer with a polite hand gesture.

"I make it a rule not to eat any confectionery not made by the Funtom Company. I appreciate the gesture though." Winslow raised his eyebrows in surprise before returning the sweets to his pocket.

"I can see you are far more mature than you look. I had not expected a boy who still attends meetings in shorts to be so resistant to the allure of treats." The man replied in a blatant attempt to rattle him. Ciel was not amused by the barb, but was far from rattled. The boy smirked.

"My butler assures me I have the legs for wearing shorts that many other noblemen simply do not." He countered whilst crossing his legs to display proof of his statement. Winslow appeared to concede the point.

"Well, you certainly have me bested, Earl Phantomhive, and perhaps your fiancée too." The man said with a smug smile Ciel took exception to, especially when he mentioned Elizabeth. He bit his tongue though. When no reaction came, Winslow moved on. "Now, I take it you're here in connection with the recent murders that are dominating headlines around the country?"

"That's correct."

"I take it you are most concerned with Sir Talbot's killing?" Winslow said trying to prompt Ciel into showing his hand immediately. The boy was not in the mood to bite at the first opportunity. He fingered the blue diamond of his ring in mock thought before shaking his head and responding in the opposite.

"No, actually it is Sir Ernest's slaying that is of most interest to me and Scotland Yard too." The boy was pleased to no end to see Winslow frown in the aftermath.

"I don't understand. Sir Ernest was poisoned, likely by one of the kitchen staff if the papers are accurate with their information."

"Certain details of the investigation have been kept from the journalists. We found a correspondence between Sir Ernest and an unknown party that suggest illicit trade was taking place and that he was behind it, namely child prostitution."

"That is a horrible thought, Earl. Has the Yard investigated these apparent underworld activities for proof of the man's involvement?"

"They have. They have ruled them to be false. Sir Ernest's side of the correspondence has been found to be the work of a talented forger. We believe some acquaintance of his is responsible for not only the correspondence but also his murderer."

"Have you questioned Earl Walmsey? He and Sir Ernest…"

"We have already explored and dismissed that particular lead. We have also dismissed the staff. We are focusing our efforts on a tradesman we understand was a frequent visitor to Sir Ernest's estate, a man by the name of Warren Loughby."

"Warren Loughby? Doesn't he own a shop in Piccadill…"

"No, he doesn't. What do you know of him?"

"Very little, I'm afraid. My servants often procure his services when their uniforms need mending and I supply them with an allowance for such unforeseen circumstances. Beyond that, I know nothing of the man."

"Perhaps a physical description as transcribed by my butler from household staff at his residence might illuminate your memory." Ciel said reaching behind his shoulder. Sebastian slipped a folded piece of paper between his fingers. The boy observed an excitement grow on Winslow's face as he unfolded the document and began to read aloud. "A man of approximately thirty years with short blond hair and very sharp features. Roughly six feet three inches and well-built. Spoke with the accent of the upper-class but had a very slight lisp in the pronunciation of the letter S. However, the most interesting part of this description is not related to Mr Loughby's appearance or mannerisms at all. It pertains to a man staff frequently saw Mr Loughby meet outside the residence when business for the day had concluded. The man they saw was described as a mirror image of Mr Loughby, from top to bottom. He is even purported to have worn exactly the same clothes as Mr Loughby each time they were observed together. Staff had a very strong notion they were twin brothers." The boy finished refolding the paper and slipping it into his coat pocket. "I see a correlation between these descriptions and the two men stood behind you, Lord Winslow. But perhaps I am mistaken. Perhaps another pair of very tall identical twins are viable suspects and this is just a coincidence."

"Harris and Harlow are upstanding and law-abiding citizens of this realm, Earl Phantomhive. They do not go around poisoning Her Majesty's subjects, probable cause or not. Frankly, I am insulted by such an unsavoury suggestion where their characters are concerned." Winslow said with indignation and disgust that, although well-acted, did not convince Ciel in the slightest. The boy sighed.

"So, am I believe that the combined testimony of twelve individual members of staff, each of which observed Mr Loughby and his companion on separate occasions free from the viewpoint of other household workers, are mistaken or lying when they describe your servants as the two men in question?"

"Unless you have greater proof than hearsay and servant gossip, I will ask you to leave." Winslow said standing up.

"Since my move in our little game is not yet over, I advise you to remain seated, Lord Winslow." Ciel said glaring at him. The man smirked before sitting down again.

"I do wonder whether you would be so forceful and arrogant if your butler were not stood behind you at all times. Being that you are so frail even for a boy of thirteen, Sebastian must be awfully strong to compensate." Winslow said with a perception Ciel could not help but think was hypocritical, given his own frailty and present company. The boy still refused to be rattled by his scathing comments.

"My mind is the only thing I need to cover my physical shortcomings, Lord Winslow. It tells me this much about your character: you are a snake and a venomous one at that. It is clear from evidence found at both Sir Ernest and Sir Talbot's homes that Harris and Harlow are responsible for the murders whilst you are the motive for their crimes. If you wish to have my job as the Queen's Guard Dog within the kingdom, you could conduct yourself in a manner befitting a Victorian gentleman instead of that of a child as you have done thus far. Instead you frame and murder a sick old man for perverted crimes you no doubt have a hand in, firstly in order to cover your tracks and secondly to ensure only I can follow. Sir Talbot had figured out your motives and that is why you had him murdered with such abruptness. Had we not arrived so soon, your man might have torn out the impression of the final page in the journal to completely dismiss your involvement as fantasy. The only thing I do not understand is why you engaged me in this little tête-à-tête in the first place. You wanted rid of me, you should have not left clues at all." Ciel said weaving a narrative that was vague but plausible given what they had uncovered. It made sense that Winslow would want his position to be closer to criminal ventures he had a stake in and so that he was able to deal with whistle-blowers and witnesses swiftly and efficiently, as he had done already. The man was unperturbed by this accusation.

"You have nothing but circumstantial nonsense and hearsay to bring to Queen Victoria. And she is too shrewd a woman to believe the imaginative ramblings of a stupid child. I suggest you really leave now and be spared the embarrassment of being forcibly escorted from here by Harris and Harlow." Winslow enunciated clearly and confidently. Ciel let his gaze drift from the man to the twin behemoths stood behind him. Harlow was definitely human, judging by the damage to his face, but Harris was an anomaly. He could not say with certainty that both of them were not a threat. Regardless of this unknown element, Ciel was sure that Sebastian could eliminate them if ordered.

"You may not have anything to tie you to either of the murders, but your servant does. That bruise on his face has a distinct pattern to it, one I believe can be traced to a ring worn by Sir Talbot on his right hand we found at the scene. We need confirmation of this. To that end, we will be taking him and you cannot stop us." The boy said indicating for Sebastian to move to his side. The demon, thus far a mere spectator to the action, was now preparing for active participation. Winslow did not seem ruffled, though Ciel knew he would have been if the truth about Sebastian was known.

"You are not the Yard, little Ciel. The arrogance of your youth is staggering, even to a stubborn old goat like me. You think I would let you come here with him and not prepare?" Winslow said pointing directly at Sebastian. "Sir Talbot's journals offer more than just conjecture on recent events in your history. Their view is quite interesting, particularly where the role of your butler is concerned. I did always wonder how a child like you could so handily dispose of Her Majesty's problems when certain taskings, like Jack the Ripper, were as good as a death sentence for a boy of your misfortune. Then I read Sir Talbot's opinion on the matter. It was a very good eye-opener for a man who had always dismissed the idea of the supernatural as nonsense. Sebastian is not human, is he? He is a demon and one who has only entertained your whims because of a Faustian contract. The seal of your contract, the proof of your occult practices, is in your right eye. That is why it is always hidden, just as Sir Talbot speculated. You are an abomination to this realm, Ciel Phantomhive whilst your servant is an abomination against nature."

"My, my, this has rather spiralled out of hand, has it not, Master?" Sebastian said with an amused smile Ciel could not share.

"Yes, I quite agree. I feel someone needs to be silenced for the good of the realm. It is not me."

"Your orders, Sir?" The demon asked adjusting the fit of his gloves. Ciel considered the smartest path to what he wanted, now a real threat was posing itself to his safety. He smiled.

"Silence Lord Winslow, but do not kill him. Simply tear out his vocal chords. That is an order."

"Yes, My Lord."

"Harris, I order you to stop Mr Michaelis for me." Lord Winslow said to the unblemished twin with the same confidence Ciel had issued his orders to Sebastian with. For a moment, Harris' eyes glowed red. He spoke in haunting parallel to Sebastian when replying.

"Yes, My Lord."

Ciel realised then and there that his advantage was not unique: Winslow evidently had summoned his own demon and made his own contract. This was proven when Sebastian could not find a way to pass Harris to access Winslow's throat. The demon struck Harris with more force and power than Ciel had ever seen, but the blond behemoth remained equal to them in durability. Harris then swung at Sebastian, but found his blows equally as useless in damaging the demon. After three minutes of pointless brawling, a contest in which no ground whatsoever was made on both sides, the two stopped and stood still in the centre of the office. Harris' face remained impassively blank. Sebastian smiled, but was visibly unnerved by the presence of another being like himself. The demon turned to the boy and shrugged.

"It would appear the game has reached a stalemate, Young Master."

"I would heed the word of your butler, you uppity brat. There shall be no pioneering surgery today, but if you agree to certain terms, you will have the silence you wish for. I will not speak of your secret if you will not speak of mine. If you do, we will both be hunted." Winslow said before lifting his moustache to clearly show a pentagram covering all of the space between his nose and bottom lip. Ciel narrowed his eyes at the mark and its significance for the investigation. _If this is a draw, why do I feel like I have lost the game?_ Ciel thought to himself. _I have the murderers of both knights in front of me and a wealth of proof taunting me on Harlow's face. But I cannot act if I am unable to bring Harlow into police custody. If I fail to produce a credible suspect to take the fall, my earldom and all the respect I have earned from it will be taken from me._

"How can you pour scorn on me when you have made exactly the same dark pact?" Ciel said, aware he was becoming more than a little irritated by the development of this investigation into something sinister and ugly beyond the ramifications of murder. Winslow sneered.

"I said you were an abomination. I never said I was not. However I do not attract fans like you do, boy."

"You killed two knights of the realm to bring me here so you could boast?" Ciel said in abject disgust.

"I let you get this far because I wanted to see the look on your pasty little face when you realise how close you came to winning, only to lose at the last possible moment. I must say, your indignation is delicious."

"What do you have to gain from showing your hand?" Ciel said almost demanding to be told as his anger at being held at bay by a perverted old man with a clear hatred of bright children was beginning to boil over. Winslow's smug face and condescending voice were growing unbearable as he offered another rebuttal like nails on a chalkboard.

"Aside from gaining immunity to the bite of the Queen's Watch Dog? With our monsters equally matched…"

"We are not evenly matched, Lord Winslow." Sebastian said to interrupt the man's boasting. The demon looked away from Harris to lock eyes with Winslow, "I do not need to know the details of your contract to know he will get your soul when you have control of this realm. Such a boring and tired ambition only attracts a boring and tired demon. Raw greed and power do not attract the attentions of superior creatures. They attract mercenaries of the spirit world, those creatures that do not care about a soul's flavour as much as the quantity they can consume. Subsequently, Harris will have a weakness I do not possess and one I can exploit to kill him." Winslow relaxed back into his seat and sighed lethargically.

"But you have yet to find it, Mr Michaelis and if you have not been able to find it after three minutes of fighting, I doubt you will find it today. Harlow will stay with us and you will go elsewhere." Ciel, knowing further discussion would only degenerate into screaming where he was concerned now all the facts were out on display, stood up and slowly approached the doorway followed by Sebastian. He turned to glare at Winslow as he sat in triumph, safe behind his demonic henchman.

"This isn't over." He said more with bitterness than resolution. He needed time to think of some way through the problem before him. Winslow's crawling riposte did not help matters.

"No, it's not, but it will be soon. Once you fail and the Queen deems you unfit to carry out the duties of the Queen's Watch Dog, I will gladly accept the role and gain immunity for my business ventures here in London." The man said referencing child prostitution and exploitation of workhouse children, knowing there was no penalty. Ciel jabbed a finger at him. He spoke crisply to let the old bastard know he had yet to claim total victory on the battlefield.

"I will not let you sully my name or the role I play. Mark my words, Winslow, I will kill you."

Now the boy was rattled.


	9. Chapter 9

**Ciel and Sebastian 9**

Ciel Phantomhive found himself in a foul mood, one nothing but Lord Winslow's death could change. Attending a meeting with Lord Randall shortly after Rosewood House had not been a good idea in hindsight. Although he knew Harlow was most likely responsible for Sir Talbot's murder, and there was significant evidence to prove it, Winslow's demon barred the path to both Harlow's arrest and conviction. Subsequently, the boy had spoken very little. Sebastian made the excuses and fielded Randall's most venomous remarks with his usual aplomb before the commissioner was satisfied they had nothing to offer to the investigation. They had then returned to the townhouse.

Ciel rejected the demon's offer of sweets, including a gateau des fruits, when they were in the living room. He had no appetite after his humiliation. The bitter taste of defeat swirling round his mouth made the idea of any food simply impossible. The boy ordered Sebastian to find Harris' weakness, the one he had said could be exploited to kill the rival demon, and ignore everything else. Sebastian's refusal to do as ordered, the first such instance Ciel could remember of open defiance, was enough to make the boy explode into rage.

"I ORDER YOU! DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND YOU'RE MY SERVANT? YOU THINK YOU CAN TREAT ME LIKE A CHILD AS WELL?" Ciel screamed getting to his feet from the armchair and squaring up to his towering butler. It was like the dream. Sebastian's defiance was like the nightmare. Why was everyone denying him things? Why was everyone against him? "I order you to find that bloody bastard's weakness and kill him and that old pervert immediately! Do I make myself clear, you stupid sodding demon?" The boy snapped having managed to lower the bass in his voice enough to not sound like a child throwing the mother of all tantrums. The demon smiled at him.

"I take no pleasure in defying your orders, Young Master. But, I cannot allow you to sit here and sulk without food or comforts whilst I am gone. If I were to do, I would fail as your butler. My first priority is your health and well-being, not exposing an inferior demon's flaws." Sebastian said coolly. Ciel was in disbelief of the demon's lack of cooperation. He was in disbelief of the surreal nature of this entire situation given he had gone to London to solve a single murder. Instead, he now found himself embroiled in criminal enterprises, occult practices and a battle of egos and wits with a fellow servant of Her Majesty. Sebastian's refusal to carry out his command was almost too much for the boy to endure without snapping completely. The boy took a deep breath and collected himself.

"And what do you suggest we do to stop Winslow and his disgusting business practices?" He inquired in a calm tone almost equal to his servant's. Sebastian replied instantly and without any need to think how to word his reply.

"You will take a long, hot bath. I will prepare this evening's meal. Once you are no longer overly stressed and your wounded pride has mended, we will begin by stopping all Lord Winslow's business ventures at their sources. Then and only then will we graduate to the man and his uncouth guardian. Never be in doubt you will succeed in plenty of time, Master. I am always with you. But the tension in both your body and voice are unbefitting to someone of your breeding. They belong to wayward children and the poor, desperate men of this city's underbelly. You are above such things, are you not?" Ciel appreciated such support, even if Sebastian was somewhat patronising in his manner. He supposed the demon's strategy was a sound one. He knew he was in no state to attack intelligently as he was. The boy knew without a coherent plan, Winslow and his lapdogs would walk all over him and simply take his position. He nodded at Sebastian.

"Yes, I am. Please run me a bath, Sebastian." The boy said. His use of the word 'please' seemed to surprise his butler, who raised his eyebrows briefly before responding in the usual fashion.

"Yes, My Lord."

Ciel discovered that the demon was more attuned to his mood than he thought. Mere minutes after immersing himself in water slightly warmer than his blood, the youth felt his anger and bitterness begin to recede. He closed his eyes and relaxed for long, slow minutes until he heard Sebastian enter the room. He did not open his eyes even when the demon dressed behind him and began snapping on a pair of gloves to commence washing his hair.

"Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes, Sir. Would you like to hear tonight's menu?"

"No. Just wash my hair."

"Certainly."

Ciel felt lean fingers journey across his scalp with monotonous regularly for what seemed like an age. The familiar sensations that came with the ritual of hair-washing proved soothing on his mind and helped ease further pain and angst, especially where Winslow's scathing remarks were concerned. When his hair was rinsed, the boy let himself be gently eased to a sitting position and fully expected to get up and dress out of the bathtub. Instead, the demon's lean fingers found their way to his shoulders and began to massage them. He opened his mouth to protest, only to find the firm pressure as Sebastian's thumbs circled the small amount of muscle he had across the top of his neck and shoulders loosened up his entire body. The massage only lasted three minutes, but further robbed him of tension to the point he could even muster a 'thank you' to the butler as he was dried at the side of the tub. This time there was no trace of surprise on Sebastian's face. The demon dismissed the gratitude with his usual answer of being just a mere butler and nothing more.

"I have reconsidered my earlier orders." Ciel announced as he began to eat his main course of pan-fried pheasant breast with raspberry jus, spiced red cabbage and steamed asparagus, a dish Sebastian believed represented the countryside. Sebastian, waiting on the table, offered up a polite smile.

"Indeed? What have you reconsidered regarding them, Young Master?"

"They were…too blunt. Lord Winslow expects an act of attrition based on anger, not intelligence. We must be subtle if we are to stop him. As you said, we need to arrest his businesses and their growth before tackling the man and his dog. Do you believe if we actively target his illicit activities, we might succeed in luring him into the open?" The boy inquired gathering up a bit of everything on his fork and taking a measured bite. Tonight's food was even better than usual, another tactic the demon was using to bring him back to level-headed thought. Ciel liked his strategy.

"I believe Lord Winslow is very much like you, Sir. Not in deed of course, but in thought. If you reacted so strongly to his arrogant manner and depreciative commentary, I imagine if the positions were reversed, he would lose his composure too. I doubt Harris would strive to compose him either. He does not seem to possess that kind of bond with his master." Sebastian said, alluding to the idea they did have such a close relationship. Ciel had to suppose that was true, given the number of times the butler had not only saved his life but boosted his morale and lifted his mood. The boy considered.

"Could that tenuous bond between them be a weakness to both of them?"

"Certainly in Lord Winslow's case. With his demon, I cannot be certain. What I am certain of is that Harris is physically weaker than I am. If we were able to tax him severely enough, perhaps with distractions or multiple attempts on Lord Winslow's life or properties, I would be able to subdue him."

"And by that you mean kill of course?" Ciel clarified with a smirk. Sebastian returned the gesture and inclined his head.

"Of course."

"So, we should return to Rosewood House after dinner and check the records for proof of child prostitution. If I'm right, several children will have been adopted by the same people for the express purposes of trafficking around London's seedier districts. They would need to be young so they could be indoctrinated by their masters and also of ill-education and background so they cannot seek refuge elsewhere or risk escape. If he's smart enough, he will have burned such records, but if he's as arrogant as he seems, he'll still have them."

"Why do you believe that?"

"Because if I were him, I would do the same thing. Arrogance makes you feel untouchable. You begin to take risks because you feel you can afford to and because it gives you a rush few other things can match." Ciel responded taking another bite.

"I can understand the appeal of such a vaunted position of power. Do you find me arrogant, Master?" Sebastian said to pose an interesting question. Ciel had no problems answering it, having already considered the query for himself some time ago.

"I find you smug, but not arrogant. But, a creature like you is somewhat deserving of smugness, given your talents are so vast and never waiver, regardless of age or circumstance. When I'm dead, you'll still be the same absurd perfectionist you are now. It is comforting to know you are a constant in the world."

"Why is that?"

"I will always have someone who remembers me, even if my family are forgotten, my body turns to ash and my gravestone is reduced to an illegible moss-covered stone. You will always recall I existed. If my soul meets all your expectations or exceeds them, you might even miss me." Ciel suggested with a smile he was certain was genuine. Sebastian's smile in return was not as easy to read.

"Perhaps I will, Young Master."

"Another thought has occurred to me as well."

"Yes?"

"Double Charles withheld information from me during my initial tasking to this investigation. They might have known of Lord Winslow's occult practices and illicit operations before Sir Ernest's murder and just needed an excuse to go after him. However, rather than go against a demon-wielding loon like Winslow themselves, they sent me to deal with the problem. The only reason they would do that is because of you." The boy postulated, leading his butler to raise an eyebrow in something akin to being slightly ruffled.

"You believe they suspect my true nature?"

"Why else? Fight fire with fire, demon with demon."

"But if that's true, why not simply tell us of Lord Winslow's involvement? Why make us uncover the truth on our own?"

"They enjoy testing me. Perhaps the Queen knows of your true origin, perhaps not, but I am almost certain, Double Charles know of Winslow's shady dealings and of your talents for dealing with such problems."

"Then they must also appreciate your cunning, Master. Your reputation as a problem solver, particularly where occult practices are concerned, is well-deserved." Sebastian said in a tone that suggested the demon wholly believed what he had just said. Ciel stared at him in quiet reflection for almost a minute. Praise from a butler should have felt like an obligation of servitude, not anything to feel proud of. The boy however was certain he felt something when Sebastian offered such admiration. It was almost…

He shook the idea of sentiment loose and offered up a sneer to return the atmosphere to normal. "Enough flattery. What should I wear that suits the occasion of bringing down a criminal enterprise in the most brutal fashion possible?"

"I think your brown tweed hunter's outfit is upstairs, Sir. I think that would add a touch of class to the operation we are about to undertake." The demon said. Ciel smiled in approval.

"Yes. That will do quite nicely."

Their return to Rosewood House did not offer up the same drama as earlier in the day. Ciel located the necessary files in the office whilst Sebastian stood watch. Nobody came. The house itself was quiet, save for the snoring of the children in the bedrooms. Once they had what they required, an address in an area renowned for opium dens and ladies of the night, they left without a sound. What happened next more than made up for the lack of showmanship in gathering the intelligence.

After entering the named establishment, a brothel that hid beneath the guise of a drapery, the pair dealt with half-a-dozen of society's dreck and found nine children under the age of thirteen being forced to work in the brothel. They all bore scars of brutal assaults and haunted eyes that said they would never quite be the same again. Ciel could sympathise with them. That was why neither he nor his demonic butler spared the lives of their captors, although none of them were privy to a swift execution. The boy shot one man at least twice in his crotch and let him linger for almost ten minutes before finishing him off with a bullet to the head. Sebastian was far less poetic in his methods in ripping limbs clean off bodies and cutting out tongues, but just as effective. Once the children were in safe care, the pair set the establishment on fire and watched it burn from across the street.

"How many other locations do you suppose we'll need to visit before he takes notice?" Ciel asked as the flames began to devour the roof and thick black smoke billowed above the carnage.

"Several more, Young Master. I would imagine ten establishments such as this one in a single night would help Lord Winslow understand our position."

"Then we should get to work. Get word through our criminal network that cash rewards are being offered for the destruction of these establishments," Ciel said handing the butler a folded piece of paper, "but with the following caveat: tell them I want no survivors, but any children they may come across should be lead to safety. Make it known I shall pay handsomely for such an unusual service, but agony will befall those who ignore such a clause. Destruction of the property itself should be arson. I want to light up the sky with the ruins of his enterprises. Is that quite clear?"

"Yes, My Lord. Would you care to turn in for the evening?"

"No. If he thinks I am not willing to get my hands dirty to win this little game of ours, he should think again."


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Closing in on the dramatic finish. Calm before the storm now. Next chapter, the big battle!**

**Ciel and Sebastian 10**

"How soon before we can expect a counterattack?" Ciel asked as he sat in the living room, loading his revolvers with hollow-point bullets, a bespoke order that had been acquired through black market connections in Europe. The bullets, although ordinary in appearance, were designed to expand on impact, doubling the diameter of the wound inflicted and cause damage equal to that of a shotgun at close range. He wanted to rip Winslow apart in the most brutal and ungentlemanly fashion possible. It was exactly what he deserved. Sebastian, busy sewing chainmail inside one of his master's waistcoats, considered briefly.

"In all likelihood, Lord Winslow will attack under the cover of darkness, when there is less chance of him being identified by public conventions. He will likely do the same when sending his contacts to attack the Funtom Company and the manor."

"Do we wait for him or just go ahead ourselves?" The boy inquired whilst spinning the now full barrel of his colt. He snapped it into place with a lithe flick of his wrist, approving of the weight and balance.

"It depends on how dirty you wish your hands to get. If we wait, attacks on the manor and company will take place and the outcome will be mere damage to property. If we attack, I would imagine more than Lord Winslow and his demon would be buried."

Ciel turned his head and rose to his feet at the same time before crossing the room to the table his butler was working at. "Explain." He said, still holding the colt loosely in his hand.

"Lord Winslow will be preparing for his war at home, like we are. However, I can't imagine he and his bodyguards occupy that house alone. Likely he has an army of servants to tend to the needs of his estate, innocent bystanders in a conflict they have no real stake in. If we were to surprise him, it would mean bloodshed on a far larger scale than perhaps we would like. That is what I meant by how it depends on your hands and how much blood they can take." Sebastian said glancing up from his sewing to look in the boy's eyes. Ciel conceded the point and understood the advantage of letting the aggressor to come close.

"So, we should wait for him to come to us. I suppose it would make a better story to Her Majesty, to say that he attacked us and we were forced to kill him in self-defence. At least then there would be no questions why I did not take him alive."

"That would certainly be the most intelligent course of action to take, befitting of your reputation as a master strategist." The demon said with a smile whilst continuing to sew the chainmail into the back of the garment. Ciel rolled his eyes.

"Oh, do shut up with your fawning, Sebastian. It grows tiresome after a while. How long before my waistcoat is ready?"

"It is ready now, Young Master." Sebastian said standing up and holding it by the shoulders. Ciel turned his back to the demon and extended his arms. After guiding him into the waistcoat, the butler offered caution. "I must warn you, in order to ensure a bullet will not mean your death, I have been forced to make the chainmail extremely thick and therefore extremely heavy. You may struggle with the added weight…" Ciel smacked his hands away to end his patronising speech. He felt a stone heavier, but not yet taxed by the added burden.

"I'm not as feeble as you think, Sebastian. Despite your efforts to mollycoddle me to the grave, I have been engaging in a strength regime in recent months. I am more than capable of handling this minor inconvenience." The boy said haughtily whilst buttoning it up. Sebastian smiled.

"Ah, yes. I have witnessed your forays into the gymnasium on the occasions I pass by. You seem almost consumed by training your legs to grow larger."

"Elizabeth said she liked men with muscular legs. I am merely trying to please my fiancée." Ciel replied taking control of his revolver again and returning to his chair. "Have you warned Tanaka and the company headquarters to expect possible confrontation and violence in the near future?" The boy asked as he sat down. Sebastian drew up alongside his chair and nodded.

"Word was sent last night, Sir, before our evening's fun began. They will be prepared."

"Good. The Times has publicly linked the establishments burned down last night to Lord Winslow and alluded to the idea he had knowledge of what occurred there. That should help force him into the limelight for all the world to see." Ciel mused setting his revolver down next to its brethren.

"And how much did you pay The Times for the privilege of shaming Lord Winslow?"

"Enough to make them swallow their fear of crossing a man as powerful as him. How many children were rescued last night?"

"Forty-one, Master. They are being cared for in safety."

"Good. How many children are outstanding?"

"At least two dozen. Due to the time elapsed between their adoption and now, it is reasonable to assume they are either adults or dead at this moment in time." Sebastian said without emotion. His master responded in the same detached manner.

"I see. There are still several hours before dusk. I suggest you spend them fortifying the house. Although I do not mind bloodshed or destruction, I would prefer to not be forced into finding another London residence."

"Very good, Sir."

Across the city, Harold Winslow was preparing to wage war against Ciel Phantomhive. The man was being watched closely by Harlow as he sharpened his daggers in the dying light of the setting sun. Harris was elsewhere.

"You don't have to do this, Sir." The blond behemoth said despite the pain talking caused him at the moment. Winslow smiled and shook his head.

"There is no longer a way around Phantomhive and his dog. With the brat digging in his heels, the only way to get what I want is to go through him." The old man replied firmly. He heard Harlow draw closer.

"But this is only London. You could go to India and still have all the power and wealth you desire without any complications." The servant said in a slightly more desperate tone of voice. Again Winslow shook his head.

"You just don't understand, lad. I made a deal with Harris, one that is very specifically worded. Fleeing would break that deal. If I were to run away, he would kill me anyway. Besides which, I don't want to admit defeat to that smug little bastard. I either die trying to win everything or I die having brought this nation and its sovereign to their knees. I don't want to wait for Death to drag me to Hell, I'd much rather go there on my own terms."

"We could always kill Harris. If we did, you'd be free."

"If Sebastian Michaelis, a demon we know to be incredibly powerful, could not kill Harris, then we stand no chance of doing so. I'm trapped, Harlow. I have to take my chances in a fight with Phantomhive. It's the only way I will ever see another sunrise."

"But we don't have to retaliate immediately! We could wait and plan…"

"We could. But if we did, that boy would have enough time to manoeuvre. If Phantomhive's enemies let him breathe when holding the upper hand, they inevitably end up floating in the Thames. Right now, we are on even footing, but if I were to delay my attack even by as little as a few hours, the momentum would swing to him. Once there, Phantomhive would not relinquish it. So it has to be tonight."

"Sir…please don't go."

"Spare me your sentiments, Harlow. I'm a wicked old man who deserves a fate like this. I won't recant and I won't beg for forgiveness or understanding. Cowards do that. I am many things, but I am not a coward." Winslow said deeming his current blade was sharp enough to puncture a growing boy's skull with enough thrust. He turned to find his servant bordering on the verge of tears. The old man sighed. "I have done unspeakable things, without guilt or hesitation, but even I am stunned into silence by my ability to bring you to tears." Harlow hurriedly rubbed his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Sir. My weakness is a disgrace to your service. It shan't happen again." The younger man said trying to hide his anguish. Winslow smiled at him.

"Your only weakness is loving me like a father, just as mine is loving you like a son. But it is the only weakness I am loathe to correct. Your company has lightened an existence spent languishing in the dark and for that I am truly thankful. That is why I wish you to leave London, so you may have a happier life, free of my corruption and vice." Harlow looked mortified by the suggestion. He shook his head.

"I can't leave you, Sir, not when you're preparing to risk your life for your dreams."

"My dreams are not those of good, honest men, by which I mean they are not YOUR dreams, Harlow. You deserve to have your own aspirations and not be shackled by my wants and needs." Winslow said with a sincerity he rarely showed anybody. Harlow was one of the very few exceptions.

"But I'm your servant, Sir. My entire purpose in life is to serve you."

"But I never asked you to be my servant, boy. I sent you to the finest schools in the country so that you could do whatever you pleased. I was overjoyed to no end when you were accepted by Oxford for your degree. Once you completed it, I was almost certain we would part ways and you would find your own way in life. Your decision to drop out when only six months from completion…"

"You were gravely ill! I had to come home!" Harlow interrupted fervently. The old man dismissed his concerns with a hand gesture.

"My health was of no concern. Your studies were top priority. I could never be angry at you, but I came closest to being so when you left Oxford and elected not to return upon my recovery. If I have to order you to leave my service and never return, I will do so."

"But I owe you everything. I wouldn't be here without your kindness." Harlow responded. Winslow sighed. Ah yes, his 'kindness'. He had found his servant when Harlow was a boy of no more than seven or eight, working in one of his rival's brothels in Europe. The boy was a kind of waiter there, serving the clients drinks as they took little girls' virginity. They hit and beat him constantly, despite his efforts to be good. Before burning the place to the ground and killing everyone inside, Winslow was offered a drink by the boy. He was told if it was not to his liking, he could thrash him as hard as he wanted. Winslow found the brandy provided to be excellent. So he took Harlow with him. He had doted on him ever since, despite continuing his evil practices. He was immensely proud of having never raised a hand to Harlow during the last twenty years. The boy had been nothing but lovely.

"The only thing you owe me is the opportunity to live a full life. You can't do that if you stay by my side. You simply can't. I am selfish and self-absorbed, but I will not keep you here for the sake of my ego. Why else do you think I had Harris imitate your appearance so exactly? It is so when the time comes for me to draw my final breath, the last thing I see is your face. It is the last thing I ever wish to see on this earth. He is my way of keeping you by my side whilst letting you leave to pursue your own dreams." The man said with a small smile he hoped would ease Harlow's pain somewhat. The younger man mustered a weak smile in reply.

"Very clever, Sir."

"Not really, lad, sentimental in all truth and a bad thing to have in my particular line of work, but I will be glad of it when my time comes. I expect you to pack your belongings and be out of the city before the night is over. I have arranged for you to have lodgings in Cambridge for the foreseeable future. You will also have access to your trust when you arrive, just give this letter of consent to the bank manager and a sizeable fortune will be yours to build a new life with." Winslow said passing the man a sealed letter with his family crest. For a moment, the old man feared Harlow would refuse to take it. But eventually he did, placing it inside his coat pocket.

"Where will I find you when all this is over?"

"Abney Park I should think. My mausoleum should be nearing completion now. I'll be ready to take up residence shortly." Winslow replied without any kind of humour or fear. He had always enjoyed walking through Abney Park Cemetery and viewing the graves of his vanquished foes. It only made sense that he should join them there to bask in their misery for all eternity.

"So, this is the last time I will ever see you again?" Harlow said, his voice reedy and his eyes once more threatening to unleash emotion in its rawest form. The old man nodded his head.

"I would think so, yes. I won't be teasing you this time with my death. No more last minute reprieves."

"Then would you let me?"

"It's only fair I do so, my son, it's only fair." Winslow said opening his arms to meet his servant's inevitable embrace. Harlow immediately lunged forward and held the old man against his chest in a tight hug before sobbing softly into his shoulder. Winslow reciprocated his actions as best he could, given his advanced years and frail condition. He ruffled the boy's hair affectionately and offered up his most soothing voice. "Thank you for your love, boy. It has meant the world to me. Everything will be fine, lad, everything will be just fine."

An hour later, Harlow was gone and Winslow had watched the sun set on the horizon, plunging the house into darkness. It was time. He sheathed all six of his knives and went to the parlour.

"Come to me, Harris."

He heard regular footsteps approaching him from the dark. Red eyes glowed as the footsteps grew louder. A moment later, the entire room was illuminated by three dozen candles and the demon stood before him as a perfect homage to his son who was now speeding away to safety. Harris' features remained impassive as he spoke aloud.

"What are your orders, Sir?"

"Take me to Phantomhive. It is time to end this game of ours."

"Yes, My Lord."


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: It's fight night in London!**

**Ciel and Sebastian 11**

"Stick to the plan, even if I appear to be in mortal danger." Ciel instructed Sebastian as they waited in darkness for their guests to breach the reinforced front door. "You must eliminate Harris first. He is the threat, not Winslow." The boy looked up to see nothing of his butler but red eyes flickering in the gloom.

"Be that as it may, I will still not let you die, Young Master."

"I'll be fine. Just do your job." Ciel snapped whilst pulling back the hammer on his revolver when it became clear the door would give way with just another push or two.

"Yes, My Lord."

A few moments later, the door flew open. Ciel held his breath and waited for footfalls to follow the forced entry. But none came. After a minute, the boy heard footsteps emanating from upstairs and realised Winslow and his dog had adopted a more subtle tactic that charging in all guns blazing. It was of no consequence: they had prepared for this contingency well enough. The sound of a body hitting the floor with an audible thump told Ciel Sebastian's suggestion of piano wire across all the doorways was smarter than simply dynamiting the entire upper floor.

"Hopefully the old bastard's broken a hip." The boy whispered with a smirk, knowing a demon would never make such an amateur mistake. Even though he could not see his face, he knew Sebastian was smiling too.

"Perhaps so. Shall I go attend to Harris?"

"Not yet. I have a feeling things are about to get very interesting."

Less than a minute later, Winslow had still not began to descend down the stairs. When they heard a crackling sound growing louder and hungrier moments after, Ciel knew the man had just set the house ablaze. The boy had to concede it was clever.

"Shall I put out the fire, Sir?"

"No. Barricade the front door. If he wishes to funnel us outside into an ambush for his lapdog, he should try harder." Ciel said as the flames crept down the bannister, bathing the room in a surreal glow that put the boy in mind of what Hell would look like on a good day.

"It's very likely Lord Winslow has exited through the same window he entered the property by. The only individuals trapped in here will be us." The butler pointed out. Ciel smiled at him.

"Shall we see?" The boy said standing up from his crouched position against the wall and gesturing for the demon to follow. Sebastian obliged him and both wandered to the open doorway, oblivious to the encroaching and suffocating heat that only stood minutes away from burning them. Outside they could see Harris stood six feet from the open doorway, his eyes glowing red and his features as blank as fresh slate. There was no sign of Winslow. The pair exchanged glances and then regarded Harris again. The demon made no attempt to move towards them despite Sebastian being at least a foot away from his master.

"Interesting…" The butler mused before inexplicably yanking Ciel to the ground as something fast and shiny zipped through the air from behind them.

"That would've hit him in the direct centre of his brain." Winslow's voice yelled from the stairs where the flames were licking the ground near the soles of his feet. "But now your little house of horrors has been upset, I think second time lucky will be good enough for me. Harris, kill Ciel Phantomhive." The old man added, producing another knife from his hip. Harris went from motionless to a hurtling blur in less than the time it took for Ciel to blink. Sebastian countered his imminent assault by picking up the man's discarded projectile and throwing it at Winslow's head with too much speed for a human to dodge the attack. As expected, Harris changed course and blocked the knife with the thickest part of his back.

"Deal with Harris." Ciel said as Sebastian assisted him to his feet, "I'll finish Winslow."

"Are you quite certain?" The demon checked only for his master to shoot him a withering glare.

"You are my chess piece and Harris is his. You're here to be sacrificed so I can get the checkmate. So go sacrifice yourself so I can win this game."

Sebastian smiled. "Yes, My Lord."

A moment later, the demon had tackled Harris from behind and knocked the pair of them clean through the back wall of the house and outside. Ciel and Winslow regarded each other in silence. The boy raised his revolver. The old man held his knife like a dart. Ciel smirked.

"I think you've brought the wrong weapon to this contest, Lord Winslow."

"Oh? I beg to differ."

The moment the boy began to squeeze the trigger, Winslow fired off his own projectile where it embedded itself into Ciel's hand, causing him to drop the pistol altogether. As searing pain shot up from his hand to his central nervous system, the boy was already reaching for the revolver tucked into the back of his belt with his non-dominant hand. Another knife, this one with a serrated blade, put an end to this when slicing through the front of his thigh. Ciel had known Winslow was skilled with a sword and pistol, but not that his knife-throwing talents rivalled that of circus performers. As he was forced to one knee, the boy was aware the old man had yet to advance a single step, despite now being surrounded by fire and almost incapable of escape.

"You should have heeded my warnings at Rosewood House, you little brat." Winslow said finally walking out of the inferno's path to a safe area. Ciel needed him to get closer. He was beginning to fear the old man was too seasoned for that kind of trap. But then Winslow advanced until he was only inches away. "Now, you're going to pay the price for meddling in my affairs." The man smirked as he produced a large hunting knife, the sort used for skinning the carcass, and prepared to use it. As he stooped down to grab him by the throat, Ciel took hold of the arm and twisted it with such force and violence to simultaneously cast the old man to the ground whilst audibly popping something out of place. He then had to weave out of repeated strikes of the knife as Winslow flailed it back and forth. The boy reached for his revolver again but was booted hard in the knee and forced to hobble to safety inside the living room.

Sebastian was again finding Harris a challenge to break. In a fistfight, Lord Winslow's demon was near enough his equal. It meant simply outduelling him was impossible and unwise. There were other methods however, ones he had known for countless centuries that would make Harris yield like a puppy if properly applied. So he stopped engaging him in combat altogether and merely stood still some six feet away from him. Harris mirrored his actions and cocked his head, clearly unsure of how to proceed. Sebastian awaited some kind of aggression from his opponent, but none came. Harris stood and was still. He understood now what kind of demon Harris was. Sebastian was facing down a mirror demon, a creature that was adept at copying both the appearance and actions of others, but had no form or personality itself. Everything it possessed was borrowed from another. His appearance was that of Harlow, while his voice and fighting prowess were copied from Sebastian, something the more seasoned demon realised when Harris would not proceed without orders or actions to mimic. It was a mindless automaton, something that only concerned itself with feeding and would do anything to be fed. Sebastian smiled at Harris in amusement. He had not encountered such a base creature in some time. It was a novelty.

"Tell me, are you familiar with the _Danse Macabre_?" Sebastian inquired before breaking into the first steps of the dance routine. After two moves, Harris began to copy him. It was a little rusty it seemed: most mirror demons could follow someone in perfect synchronisation after a single step. The demons began to twirl in flourishes around one another before fanning back out into wider arcs. Sebastian knew he could kill his dull adversary if he were able to get Harris to copy his next sequence of movements precisely. He produced two longswords from beneath his coat and tossed one to Harris. The mirror demon caught it handily and replicated the positions with the sword Sebastian was now cycling through with unerring precision. The circles began to tighten again as the two demons twirled and spun their blades close to their bodies, dangerously close and frighteningly fast._ Another sixteen movements _Sebastian mused as they drew in so close to one another that their blades almost crossed, _it won't be long now_.

Ciel limped his way into the kitchen, knowing it was a dead-end and knowing Winslow was close behind armed with more lethal projectiles. By now, the blood was flowing steadily from his wounds and hampering both his movement and ability to think clearly. He grabbed the rapier they had stashed under the kitchen sink and tried to adopt a stable position to mount a fight from. However, without his right hand to control the blade and inability to place weight on his injured leg, the boy knew if Winslow did not best him, the black smoke now seeping down through the ceiling surely would. He shook such pessimism from his mind. He was Ciel Phantomhive, after all, not some weak little boy. Winslow may have been a snake, but Ciel had never met a snake yet that could prove his downfall. The plan was still workable. The victory was still within reach.

"Well, well, looks like your demon won't be coming to your rescue this time, little Ciel." Winslow said rounding the corner. The old man's arm hung limp at his shoulder, but the way he held his knife in the other hand said he was ambidextrous and just as deadly. His sickly grin made the boy's stomach lurch, but Ciel held his ground. The boy smirked.

"I don't need a demon to fight my battles."

"Nor do I, but I think we can both agree that it is better to be decrepit but experienced than it is to be young and stupid." Winslow said before launching another knife at the boy's head. This time, Ciel was able to swat it away by pivoting his hips and driving all his force into the deflection. His opponent was unbowed by the display of defiance.

"After I kill you, I believe I will engage Sebastian's services to raze your manor and company to the ground. Then I march on Buckingham Palace for Her Majesty's head." Winslow said serenely whilst unveiling his own rapier from beneath his cloak. Ciel narrowed his eyes at such blasphemy levied against the crown.

"I thought you only wanted my job."

"It's too late to think small, boy. With all this chaos, only the loftiest ambitions will do." Winslow said before lunging forward. Ciel barely managed to parry in time. His wounds were becoming worse by the minute, but he had to keep pushing back. He ducked a swoop that would have decapitated stone before scoring with a slash to the man's unprotected abdomen. As he moved to one side to deal another blow, Winslow dropped low with the agility of a cat and whipped him across the buttocks, cutting tender flesh and drawing even more blood. Ciel, hit with fresh and stinging agony, clumsily barged past his foe and staggered back into the parlour, only to find no escape from the flames or smoke. He sighed in annoyance as Winslow bore down on him yet again.

The movements were now so frenzied that it was difficult to tell who was leading who, until the crescendo. In the penultimate movement, Sebastian brought his sword perilously close to his own throat before snapping his neck back so far it left his head at a right angle to the rest of his body whilst allowing the blade to skim the surface skin from his exposed throat. Harris, observing these movements, was too embroiled in the imitation to notice the trick. A moment later, his head rolled along the lawn to rest at Sebastian's feet. The demon snapped his head back into position without trouble before driving his sword through Harris' skull, burying the sword to the hilt in the mirror demon's head and rooting it to the ground. The butler smiled in satisfaction before bowing to his fallen enemy.

"You danced beautifully, I must say." Sebastian said before turning his gaze on the townhouse now consumed entirely by an orange aura of smoke and flame that could likely be seen for untold miles. He ran back to be at his master's side.

Ciel was now teetering on the brink against Winslow, whose gaunt frame and advanced years seemed irrelevant at present. The old man had cut him on the face, the arm and the back during the last two minutes whilst the smoke threatened to asphyxiate them both if given only a few moments more. The boy had not been inept either, scoring hits on the man's shoulder, thigh and almost slitting his throat, only to be thwarted by superior reflexes. But now he was prone on the floor with Winslow looming over him, ready to deal the final blow of a very bitter game.

"Goodnight, Earl Phantomhive." Winslow said simply before mustering all his force to drive his remaining knife through Ciel's face. The boy, having ripped both blades out of his wounds during their earlier skirmishes, rolled out of the incoming knife's path before plunging one of the retrieved blades into the man's exposed groin. Winslow howled with pain but attempted to choke the boy with his remaining hand. Ciel used everything he had left to ram his remaining blade through the old man's right eye, spraying himself with blood and tissue as it punctured his brain. Winslow's face went blank. He fell forward on top of the boy, pinning him to the floor.

"Checkmate." Ciel muttered before trying to wriggle free of the corpse's dead weight. Exhaustion and his own blood loss meant he could only muster a weak effort before failing. "Sebastian, now would be a good time." The boy mumbled as the smoke began to fill his lungs and his vision blurred and faded. Then he was swallowed whole by the blackness.

"_Young Master?"_

"…"

"Young Master?"

"Sebastian?"

"Open your eyes, Young Master."

Ciel slowly opened his eyes and let the world flood back into focus. He was being cradled in Sebastian's arms. The demon was smiling at him, his placid expression proof that this was not the end of things. The boy sorely turned his head to confront the still burning ruins of his townhouse as it roared against a backdrop of stars. He coughed, unleashing a mixture of phlegm and black soot onto the side of his hand he found disgusting. He wiped it on his shin.

"I take it Harris was dispatched?"

"He was, Master."

"What took you so long?" The boy said coldly.

"Forgive me, I did not expect him to be such a talented dancer."

"I don't think I want to hear an explanation for that statement. Where is Harlow?" Ciel demanded, wincing when it became obvious his most painful wound was the one across his buttocks.

"Apparently on his way to Cambridge if the note in Harris' coat is anything to go by. Shall I go after him?"

"Later. First, retrieve Winslow's body before it chars into unidentifiable bone. We need proof for Her Majesty."

"Already taken care of, Sir. He is only a little singed. Shall I rebuild the townhouse so you may convalesce in comfort?"

"No. It's also evidence against Winslow's character. Take me and his body to Lord Randall. We can put the matter to rest from there."

"Yes, My Lord."


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: A bridging chapter of sorts, one that serves to set up the final instalment of this story arc, where all loose ends and plot holes are hopefully addressed. If everyone is satisfied I can write and do these characters justice, I may begin another story arc. Enjoy.**

**Ciel and Sebastian 12**

"So Winslow did try to attack the manor and the Funtom Company?" Ciel asked through gritted teeth.

"Yes, however neither attack was successful. There were no casualties reported and only minor damage to the buildings themselves. Tanaka informed me this morning that everything is as it should be."

"At least Lord Randall was satisfied of Winslow's guilt in the murders of Sir Ernest and Sir Talbot. His destruction of the townhouse and attempt on my life should appease Her Majesty and her want of proof. Did you send word to Double Charles this morning?" The boy said before emitting a short, sharp cry as his body disagreed with his butler's methods yet again.

"Yes, whilst you were sleeping. Are you sure you don't want something for the pain, Young Master? Brandy can be quite potent for things like this."

Ciel glared over his shoulder at the demon who was roughly halfway through suturing the laceration across his buttocks. Still nude from the morning's bath to wash away the soot, dirt, blood and whatever other foreign matter had found its way on his body during the battle, the boy was further embarrassed by having to sprawl himself on his stomach like a common prostitute whilst treatment was administered. "I am being humiliated enough without the need for inebriation to drag me further into the depths. Just stitch it up."

"In that case I must ask you to stop fidgeting, lest you wish it to scar." Sebastian offered with a smug smile that prompted his master to return to staring at the headboard of the penthouse suite they had acquired for the time being.

"Those two idiot servants of hers are bound to pay us a visit today. Arrange for them to meet us at The Butterfly Tea Room near Grosvenor Square at midday." Ciel said before his body involuntarily reared up from another painful stitch. Sebastian pushed down on the small of his back to bring him parallel to the mattress again.

"Certainly, Sir. I would ask you refrain from doing that again, it is most unbecoming for a gentleman."

"Shut up."

Room service furnished the penthouse with breakfast less than half-an-hour later. Ciel begrudgingly sat down on two cushions to alleviate the pain when seated at the miniature dining table and regarded the hotel's best offerings with disdain. He sniffed their poached eggs and salmon before adopting a sour expression. His mood was not improved when he sampled their breakfast tea and found it had not been properly strained. He let the lukewarm contents dribble out his mouth and back into the cup before pushing it away. If he had not been so sore, he would have hurled it across the room.

"I take it you are not impressed with breakfast, Young Master?" Sebastian inquired from his side. The boy glared at him before relaxing his face when his stitches threatened to tear.

"How could you let them serve me this dreck? I would not feed this to a mangy cat for fear of being charged with unnecessary cruelty."

"My apologies. I had expected better of London's most renowned chefs. I shall go prepare you something more to your liking." The demon said before having the audacity to briefly ruffle his master's hair in a familiar manner, "I won't be but a moment." Ciel hated such a gesture gave him comfort, hated it. Less than twenty minutes later, Sebastian returned with his own poached eggs and salmon. The boy sniffed the dish. It smelled wonderful. He nodded in approval.

"That will suffice." Ciel announced before picking up his cutlery only to drop his knife on the floor. He stared in bewilderment at his bandaged right hand. When Sebastian provided him with a fresh knife, the incident repeated itself. His hand obviously needed more time to recover all its function. He looked at his butler who reacted to the situation with amusement unbefitting his station. He glared but had to stop again and was growing frustrated by the entire morning. Lean fingers pressed down on his shoulder and squeezed the flesh in support.

"The game is over. You have won and are victorious. Do not upset yourself over the smaller battles. Allow me." Sebastian said with a kind quality to his voice Ciel did not like or trust. The demon cut his eggs and salmon fillets into bite-sized pieces and then stood back to await further orders. The boy's left hand manipulated his fork with little trouble and he returned to his usual bearing.

"When will my clothes arrive?" Ciel asked once he had finished his breakfast and graduated to his newly blended breakfast tea. He was presently enveloped in a dressing gown far too large for his slight frame and felt very silly taking his breakfast in such a slovenly fashion. Sebastian had burned the clothes he had been wearing, since they could not be repaired to an acceptable standard.

"Within the next twenty minutes, Sir. I hope you do not mind but I took the liberty of selecting the colour scheme on your behalf. I elected for dark green with black accents."

"As long as I am presentable for an audience with Her Majesty's butlers, I don't care what colour you have chosen." Ciel said sipping his tea, "However I like the sound of that particular hue. It is the forest green, is it not?"

"Indeed."

"Have you confirmed Harlow's presence in Cambridge?" The boy inquired as Sebastian cleared the table.

"Yes. He is currently residing in lodgings near the university."

"We will pay him a visit after meeting Double Charles. Do not mention his continued presence amongst the living to them. We can deal with that ourselves."

"Yes, My Lord."

Once at The Butterfly Tea Room, surrounded by a sea of his peers and enjoying a strong green tea from the orient, Ciel felt quite relaxed about the whole affair. His new clothes were soft and fit him perfectly. Receiving compliments about them when walking through the door was a bonus. However, all this positivity and mental well-being evaporated when the two Charles were seated at the table. The boy rolled his eyes as they sat down, knowing the badgering and severe inquisition were only moments away. Charles Grey was the first to speak as usual, opening with a typically snide remark.

"My, my Earl Phantomhive, it seems you're not the gentleman we thought you were. Stabbing a lord through the eye is not exactly the act of one of noble birth. His relatives cannot even have an open casket at his funeral because of your savagery, and the less said about the other place you decided to stick him, the better." Ciel was in no mood for this kind of conversation. He sighed.

"The man was a murderer and a pervert who framed Sir Ernest because of greed and killed Sir Talbot out of fear. His prostitution of workhouse children alone earned him a gruesome death. With a monster that disgusting, I'm entitled to kill him however I please."

"Well, Her Majesty disagrees. While she is willing to accept your evidence that Lord Winslow and his manservants were behind the murders, she does not believe he knew anything of what terrible fate befell some of the workhouse children found to be engaged in prostitution. There is no real proof beyond conjecture and a fantastical article in The Times." Charles Phipps said, entering the discussion far quicker than Ciel had anticipated. The boy did not care.

"Well I can't un-kill the power-hungry fool. If she wishes for evidence of his illicit activities, I have at least forty-one children who were subjected to such abuses at Lord Winslow's behest. I'm sure they would all be more than happy to defame the man's character. I assume I will still be an earl of the realm and the Queen's Watch Dog after this meeting is over?"

"By Her Majesty's good graces alone. If you weren't so cute and effective, I doubt she would even entertain you as one of her subjects." Grey said with a patronising manner that proved less and less effective each time it was used. The boy offered up a thin smile.

"Well, how fortunate she has taste. Now, if this little debriefing is over…" Ciel said, gingerly getting to his feet. Charles Grey clamped a hand over the boy's to stop him dead. Before he could open his mouth, Sebastian smacked away the fellow butler's hand and moved Ciel out of touching distance.

"How dare you lay your hands on my master with such disdain. Regardless of his title, you cannot treat him like you would a dog, Earl Grey. Touch him again without his permission and I will make an example out of you, irrespective of your status." The demon said, practically snarling. The entire party, including other patrons of the establishment, fell silent. Charles Grey's mouth was agape as he stared in wonderment at Sebastian whose hand was resting protectively on his master's shoulder. Ciel stared up at his butler, somewhat astonished by his emotional reaction to the younger butler's typical lack of etiquette. He gathered himself quickly to calm the room though.

"I believe Earl Grey is now aware he overstepped his boundaries, Sebastian. I am certain he is very sorry for acting so coarsely, aren't you, Earl Grey?" Ciel said settling his gaze on Charles Grey who managed to tear his eyes from the demon's intense stare with Charles Phipps' assistance. The older of Victoria's butlers squeezed his companion on the arm, seeming to mutely tell him to keep his mouth shut, before replying on his behalf.

"Yes, Earl Phantomhive. Please give your butler our sincerest apologies. We merely wished to state that authorities have yet to trace Lord Winslow's other servant, Harlow, whom is also implicated in the murders. Her Majesty wishes him found and made to stand trial for Winslow's crimes in his place. Once you have done this, she will consider the entire matter closed." Phipps said keeping his eyes on Ciel despite Sebastian's gaze burning a hole in his skull. The boy tentatively reached over and placed a hand over the demon's as it continued to sit on his shoulder. He patted it in appreciation.

"I see. He shall be in chains before tomorrow evening. I think Sebastian and I should take our leave now. Please give the Queen my regards. Good day gentlemen."

Sebastian's hand did not leave his shoulder until they were outside the tea rooms. Once inside a carriage bound for the manor, a journey too long to be mired in awkward silence, Ciel broached the subject in his usual manner.

"What the hell was that about?" The boy snapped. Sebastian bowed his head in reply.

"Forgive me, Master. I acted in a thoroughly unprofessional manner. I assure you it will not happen again."

"That is not an answer, Sebastian. I want an explanation from you. Now." Ciel said curtly. The demon let his eyes wander to the view outside the carriage window before replying.

"I deplore members of the gentry talking down to you like you are somehow not their equal. I despise them believing they have a right to reprimand you because you are not yet fully grown. When you are treated so flippantly by servants, despite the traumas you have endured on their mistress' behalf to fulfil her wishes, I cannot stand idle. It is inexcusable." Sebastian said, his words laced with a bitterness that did not suit him. The boy frowned.

"That is their way, Sebastian, inexcusable or otherwise. I can tolerate it."

The butler smirked whilst shifting his gaze from the world beyond the carriage. "Yes, Master, of course you can. You have after all suffered such indignities under my tenure all too frequently." The demon said, his sanguine tone restored after a brief bout of madness. Ciel was glad he did not have to entertain the idea Sebastian possessed something approaching a conscience. The boy sneered.

"That is different, Sebastian. I allow you to put me through such indignities. If I wished, I could forbid you from engaging in such unprofessional practices." The demon's eyes flickered as his lips were pulled into a smile that Ciel could almost recognise as warm and friendly.

"And you would have someone else bathe and dress you? You would allow someone else to instruct you in shooting and fencing? You would make someone else stand guard at your bed until you fall asleep?" Sebastian said in curiosity rather than mocking. His master nodded.

"I would…if I wished it. But since you serve all those functions without the need for a salary, I am quite content to let you continue." Ciel said with a smile he knew spoke more of admiration than arrogance. Sebastian smiled back.

"A wise choice, Sir, very shrewd."

"You know your chainmail was not as effective as I had hoped." The boy said changing topic altogether.

"The wound on your back was down to an error in your foot placement, not the chainmail design."

"That error with my foot was likely down to the knife stuck three inches in my thigh."

"I did not say you were clumsy, Young Master, merely that the chainmail was not responsible for your wound. Personally, I think you were magnificent to have killed such a dangerous adversary while in such pain." Sebastian told him. Even though his tone was sincere, Ciel still felt the need to check.

"Magnificent was I?" The boy inquired with a cocky smirk at the notion.

"It would have been easy to simply call out my name and have me save you from certain death, regardless of whether I had subdued Harris or not, but you chose not to. You chose to suffer injury and even the possibility of death to kill Lord Winslow yourself. For a human, I consider such behaviour admirable, but for a human child to do so, I consider it magnificent. So yes, Master, you were magnificent." Sebastian said with closed eyes. Ciel rolled his eyes and sighed.

"If you weren't a demon, I would consider such rubbish as the fawning of a servant in search of a raise. I would then dismiss him from my service for such drivel."

"Which would be the right course of action. But since I am a demon?" The butler asked opening his eyes for the response. Ciel inclined his head.

"Thank you for your praise."

Sebastian was perfectly still after that answer. He looked at the boy in confusion before his expression softened to its normal state of tranquillity. He inclined his head in return.

"I am honoured, Earl Phantomhive."

"Don't expect me to offer such a compliment every day. The circumstances must be exceptional." Ciel informed him before wincing as the stitches on his back and rear groaned at the strain of holding firm when the carriage encountered cobblestones. Sebastian nodded.

"Of course, Master."

"After returning to the manor, I wish to depart for Cambridge tomorrow morning. I will deliver Harlow into the custody of Scotland Yard myself to ensure Lord Randall does not feel the need to badger us as well." The boy instructed. A rut moments later, bounced him violently on the seat, adding insult to already tender injuries. Sebastian smiled.

"Very good, My Lord. Do you have any other orders?"

"Yes, come sit next to me so I may rest my head against you and sleep until we reach our destination. I am still very tired. Do not get cute with me." The demon rose up and traversed the small space with ease, despite the uneven pathway they were heading down, sitting down beside his master without a sound.

"Of course not, Sir. Please rest at your leisure." Sebastian said. Ciel elected to stretch himself out across the length of the seat, bringing his head to rest in the butler's lap. Strong hands held him at the shoulder to ensure he did not slip or fall off. When they were subjected to another violent bounce, the boy found no part of body eager to complain. Satisfied, Ciel closed his eyes.

"If I fall off, you're fired." He muttered as Sebastian reached over and shut the curtains to hide them from public view. The hand returned to his shoulder.

"Phantomhive butlers are not in the habit of letting their masters fall unnecessarily."

"No butler should be in such habits, Phantomhive or not." Ciel said before considering something. "When we get home, I want _Gâteau forêt-noire_." He declared, using proper French pronunciation to punctuate his point.

"_Avec cerises noires ou rouges?" _Sebastian inquired facetiously. His master was not amused.

"_Cerises noires bien sûr, je ne suis pas au Amérique du Nord."_

"_Ce sera fait, mon seigneur. Dormez bien."_

"_Tais-toi."_

"Yes, My Lord."


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: End of the Story Arc. It's a long one. If well-liked, I may start another. Enjoy the conclusion to what I have decided to name The Book of Knights. Please read and review or else I fear my muse may fall silent.**

**Ciel and Sebastian 13**

**End of the Hunt**

"Ciiiiiellllll!" Elizabeth shrieked with delight as she streaked out of the manor's front door and flung her arms around her fiancé before he had even had chance to disembark from the carriage. She could only be prised off with Sebastian's considerable strength and even then the distance was hard to maintain. Ciel managed to regain his breath, but still could not speak to explain the demon's actions. As usual, Sebastian was more than happy to speak for him.

"Please forgive my intrusion, Lady Elizabeth, but the young master is feeling rather delicate today, owing to a spot of roughhousing during his last few bouts of fencing. His opponents were less than kind. He would like to talk with you further, but would appreciate if you were to refrain from touching him for the time being." Sebastian said as the remainder of the staff came to greet the boy's return. Ciel, now recovered from his rib crushing embrace, nodded in confirmation.

"As Sebastian said, I am fine, just a little bruised. Lizzie, I would like it very much if you would join me for some tea and cake in the drawing room. The rest of you are under Sebastian's supervision." Elizabeth responded to this invitation without her usual bright-eyed enthusiasm. Instead, she reached over and gently touched the stitched laceration across her fiancé's cheek with the deepest look of concern he had seen in some time. Ciel closed his eyes and let her trace the length of the cut with her finger. She took hold of his bandaged hand and stroked it tenderly. Then he found himself softly enveloped in her arms.

"Must you always play the roughest games?" She asked stroking his hair. Ciel knew then his fiancée would never be fooled by such lies, not anymore. She asked the real questions without asking, a skill that was forever impressive to him. Was he okay? She needed to know the truth. The boy opened his eyes and offered a smile he hoped would reassure her.

"Nothing worth having comes without a price, Lizzie. I'm fine, honestly. Please can we go have tea?"

"Only if it's in the conservatory. I haven't had the time to make the house as cute as I would like. And you must change. That outfit is for business, not leisure. Fortunately, I have just the thing for you to wear." Elizabeth declared, having seemingly accepted he was in rude enough health for her usual manner. Ciel was glad of the distraction and her company after being mired in such ugly affairs. Harlow was still on his mind, but drifting further back in his thoughts as his fiancée led him into the manor by the hand. He inclined his head.

"I'm sure you have."

Sebastian watched the pair disappear into the manor before noting Finnian was now precariously close to tugging on his sleeve for his attention. The demon directed his gaze into the blond youth's eyes and smiled.

"I promise you he is fine, Finny."

"But is he, Mr. Sebastian? After Tanaka warned us to be on guard last night…"

"We were all a little concerned." Baldroy said, "Especially when we had to chase off some intruders with more than the usual show." Mey-Rin nodded her head in agreement with her companions.

"And he seemed…a little listless just now. Will he…be alright?" She inquired drawing up alongside Finnian to crowd the butler. He patted her on the shoulder. They all did worry too much about the master. It was pointless where he was concerned. No harm of real significance would ever find Ciel Phantomhive while their contract held firm.

"The master is just fatigued. Once he has enjoyed Lady Elizabeth's company and eaten enough dessert, he will return to his normal self. However, we must leave for Cambridge tomorrow to attend to some final business left over from London. I would therefore ask you to prepare the horses and carriage for the journey. He did not enjoy taking a public carriage today and I do not wish to heap further misery upon him. Once done, please attend to your duties as we plan to return tomorrow evening for dinner. I will leave you a prepared meal to serve for our return, Bard. Please follow the instructions I provide you with. Finny and Mey-Rin, you are tasked with tending the house and gardens. I notice the hedgerows have yet to be clipped and the front door requires polishing. Where is Snake?"

"Making sure his 'friends' don't interrupt the happy couple. He's loitering upstairs, but the silver's already been polished. He does a damn fine job." Baldroy explained with a shrug. Sebastian, content his orders had been understood, inclined his head.

"I am certain he does. I wish to speak to you all later once the lady has departed and dinner has been concluded. It is of the utmost importance. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must attend to the young master." The demon said with an air of finality all the staff knew to mean the conversation was over. He manoeuvred past them and entered the manor whilst adjusting his gloves. When Finnian asked why the master had no luggage to carry, Sebastian merely said the word 'later' and the matter was dropped.

"Surely you find this ridiculous?" Ciel said as the demon adjusted the white cravat around his neck, "How can she expect me to wear this garish outfit?" The boy asked when no answer came to his first query. Sebastian regarded the pastel pink jacket and its white pinstripes with an aesthetic eye. He let his gaze drift below the boy's waist at his beige breeches and white socks before finally graduating to his buckled black shoes. The ensemble reminded him so much of the French Revolution.

"_Vive la révolution. Vive Napoléon_." He offered, knowing his reply would not be helpful. Ciel narrowed his eyes to showcase his immense displeasure.

"Sometimes I think I should flog you for such impertinence. Any other nobleman would do so if spoken to by a servant like you do to me."

"You may flog me if you wish, Young Master. I cannot promise it will have any effect, but you may if it would please you." Sebastian responded as he smoothed the jacket's lapels so that they were flat against the body.

"Nothing you do ever pleases me." The boy said coldly. The demon knew otherwise, as did his master, but Ciel's mood was becoming so low it demanded cruelty to rise once more. Sebastian's right hand skirted from the front of his master's body to the back before gently rubbing just between his shoulder blades.

"No matter how ostentatious the regalia you are forced to wear and no matter how absurd it might look on another, you always retain an air of dignity that marks you as one of this society's elite." The butler told him with a smile before taking his hand away. The boy sighed tiredly before nodding.

"And I suppose I should be thankful she does not wish me to wear a powdered wig and make-up like a real fop."

"Exactly, Sir, exactly. Now, come and enjoy some sweets with your fiancée."

Elizabeth was insistent he looked cuter than she had ever seen him before and kept remarking on it throughout their conversation. Ciel listened more than talked, as was typical of all their conversations, but found the majority of what she had to say greatly interesting. She offered intelligent views on the recent murders in London, stating that she believed they were interconnected and for material gain rather than any kind of personal vendetta or revenge. Curious as to how much the papers had divulged of recent events, Ciel inquired what else she had heard. She said she was only repeated what her family had been able to understand from their contacts in London. There was apparently rumour of the murderer having been brought to justice, but no confirmation of their identity. Scotland Yard was claiming credit for the feat. Then she had smiled at him.

"You're lucky I'm too much of a lady to accuse you of heroism or else I would demand the truth of the matter from you." The boy smiled at her perceptive nature. It was yet another reason to love her above all others.

"Fortunately, I'm too much of a gentleman to tell in any case." He said taking another bite of the gateau. Elizabeth reached across the table and placed her hand over his right hand, squeezing it.

"I'm very proud of you, just the same, Ciel Phantomhive." She told him with a warm smile before directing her gaze on the butler stood by her fiancé's side like his shadow. "Thank you for keeping him safe, Sebastian."

"You give me entirely too much credit, My Lady. I am simply a butler." The demon said with a humble bow. Elizabeth's expression soured somewhat. She took her hand back and folded his arms before regarding Sebastian with a scornful look.

"Your modesty is beginning to grow irritating, Sebastian. Ciel may get away with it because he is my fiancé, but you are not allowed to reject my praise any longer. Do you understand?"

"Yes, My Lady." Sebastian answered before inclining his head in gratitude, "Thank you for your kind words." Elizabeth's face softened and her rambunctious character returned as she switched topics to something lighter.

"So, anyway, yesterday I bought the cutest pair of shoes from Darnell's…"

Elizabeth left in her maid's company some two hours later. As soon as her carriage had left the grounds, Ciel divested himself of her outfit and proceeded to attire himself in far more reserved blue suit and brown shoes for the evening's meal. In spite of his injuries and Sebastian to wait on him hand and foot, the incident with his knife at breakfast had left him determined to do something for himself. The boy was pleased he had dressed himself correctly, but knew fastening his ribbon was a step too far, even when in perfect health. Somehow only Sebastian could fashion the ideal knot. So he sought out the demon and found him already attending to the dinner cart in the dining room.

Ciel held out the dark green ribbon he had selected for Sebastian's inspection. "Satisfactory for what I am wearing?" The butler's eyes lingered over the item for some time.

"Exquisite, Sir. May I?" The boy passed him the ribbon and watched a smile gently take shape on the demon's face as he thumbed the material. "You are learning, Master. Well done." Sebastian added before draping the ribbon around the back of his collar and fastening it in less than fifteen seconds. "Are you ready for tonight's dinner, Sir?"

"Quite ready."

"Then please sit." Sebastian said pulling back the chair at the head of the table. Ciel noticed the added cushions before he sat down, as he had in the conservatory, and privately resented the treatment. He did not object to them though. Everything was still tender. The demon dressed to the serving tray and lifted the lid.

"Tonight's starter is crab and lobster soup seasoned with coriander. This evening's main dish is a grilled and peppered tuna steak with an assortment of seasonal vegetables including rosemary and thyme roasted potatoes. Tonight's dessert is a light lemon and orange sorbet to help clear the palate. The wine being served with tonight's meal will be Sauvignon Vert from the Veneto region of Italy. Are any items not to your liking, Young Master?" Sebastian asked after unveiling all the dishes for inspection.

"Did you prepare all of them personally?" Ciel inquired unfolding his napkin and placing it in his lap. Sebastian inclined his head.

"I did indeed, Sir."

"Then they'll do. Why Italian wine?" The boy said as his butler presented the soup before him. The aroma was intoxicating.

"I believe you have developed a sensitive enough palate to appreciate the difference between Sauvignon Vert and Sauvignon Blanc if this morning's breakfast is anything to go by." Sebastian offered with a smile, obviously referencing the fact his food was superior in quality to any that a human could prepare. Ciel sneered at him whilst gathering up the first mouthful of his soup on the spoon.

"That hotel prepared food and drink like you used to, all image and no substance, so do not flatter yourself too much." He reminded his servant before swallowing the mouthful. It was delicious beyond all expectations. "This is passable."

"Thank you, Master. Would you care to test the wine?"

Ciel found he preferred the Italian wine over its French cousins, a revelation that surprised him. He had never had much affinity for Italy or its produce, much preferring French cuisine to anything else available on the continent. Dinner passed quietly. The boy asked why his other servants seemed nervous and Sebastian responded he was merely gathering them for a meeting following the meal. When he broached the subject of preparations for Cambridge, the demon assured him all was ready for departure tomorrow morning. When pressed about Harlow's continued presence in the city, Sebastian stated confidently that he was indeed still in Cambridge although news of Winslow's death would travel there by the morning when the newspapers were available for distribution. When his butler inquired whether his fiancée's presence had lifted his spirits and made the day's events better, Ciel chose not to answer. Sebastian did not ask again, having seemingly got his answer.

After dessert had been cleared, the boy vacated the table and went to read in his office. The demon turned his attentions to the servant quarters and the small contingent gathering outside his room. Although they were engrossed in conversation as he approached, once seen by Baldroy, all of them, including Snake, fell silent and snapped to attention. Sebastian allowed himself to smile at their efficiency before launching into his agenda immediately.

"Tomorrow morning, newspapers and word of mouth will travel here, positing the idea that the young master is responsible for murdering Lord Winslow. This notion will be circulated by Earl Grey and Lord Phipps on Her Majesty's orders. They will claim he killed him in an ungentlemanly fashion and therefore disgraced Lord Winslow's family, in this case the Midfords. This is a punishment sanctioned by the Queen for the master trying to survive rather than employing noble rules of combat. I want you all to know that, no matter what you may read, the master acted in the best interests of the crown and the country in exacting punishment upon Lord Winslow. It is already clear that Lady Elizabeth will stand by the master on the subject, however the Marquis and Marchioness may feel differently. If they arrive tomorrow to confront you whilst we are in Cambridge, do not take what they say to heart. They do not know the full story. I do. Ciel Phantomhive did what was right for the country, even though he could have died in the process. That is your master's way. We should all be proud to serve such a person."

"_And why are we hearing this now_?" Snake asked in a high-pitched voice with some annoyance, "Says Emily."

"Because you only need to know it now. Before today, news of our true purpose in London would only have worried you. The master required you all to be at peak efficiency if an attack was to pass on the house. If you had not been, the intruders may have presented a greater challenge. With the media preparing to sensationalise things in an unflattering light against the master's character, you should all know the truth before it is buried in lies. Does anyone believe I am lying to them?" The demon inquired casting an eye over them all in turn. They all shook their heads.

"_Lying is not in your nature. We know you are an honourable man_." Snake answered in a voice slightly deeper and with greater speed of delivery than his normal voice. "Says Keats."

"Snake is right, Mr. Sebastian! We know you wouldn't lie about something this important!" Finnian said with an affirmative nod both he and Mey-Rin shared. Baldroy grinned inanely and gave him a thumbs up. Sebastian closed his eyes and inclined his head in thanks.

"Thank you for your trust in me. Now, you have your orders for tomorrow. While I am gone, Tanaka will be in charge once again. I have left him specific instructions he will pass onto you in the morning. For now, please enjoy your evening. I will see you in the morning."

Harlow awoke in the morning, already knowing his master had been bested in mortal combat. Since no word of Ciel Phantomhive's corpse being found in his townhouse had reached him, the blond behemoth was left to assume the worst. He felt oddly at peace with it, given how distraught he had been when departing the old man's company for the last time. He told himself Lord Winslow would have preferred a chance at eternal glory rather than a slow death. He departed this earth the way he wanted, on his own terms. It was a comforting thought.

It had been two days since he had left London and the adjustment in lifestyle had yet to become easier. He was still not used to having his own butler and jumped when opening his bedroom door at six in the morning to find him about to enter with a fully-laden breakfast tray and shaving kit. Since he had already shaved and dressed himself, Harlow unsurely tried to relieve him of the tray only to find he would not part with it.

"Will you please let me do my job, Sir? I am beginning to feel superfluous at present." The butler, an elderly moustachioed gent the younger man believed was called Hives, said to him in a kind voice. Harlow gently released the tray.

"I'm sorry…Hives?"

"That's correct, Sir. It's quite alright. Since you are dressed, shall we go to the dining room?"

"If that's okay. I don't want to…disrupt your normal routine…if you already have a way of doing morning duties that is." The blond replied, completely ill at sea with the role of master. He had yet to dress in anything but his butler's uniform, despite discovering Lord Winslow had furnished the residence with fine clothes tailored for his oversized frame. Hives smiled.

"I am more than happy to find an alternative way of doing things, Sir."

Harlow assisted Hives in setting the table, clearing the table and washing the dishes before they both began duties tidying and cleaning the house. The blond behemoth found it familiar and not as awkward to help his butler rather than stand there and watch him do everything alone. Hives sportingly indulged him in this practice, even praising him when polishing the silverware. At around one in the afternoon, Hives suggested it might be a good idea for him to leave the house for a while and take a walk around the city. Harlow appreciated the fact he had been suffocating his companion all day with his presence and the old boy just wanted some space to work. He also knew he could simply stay inside for the rest of life, it was not the proper thing for an affluent member of society. So he dressed in some of his finer clothes, opened the door and prepared to step out into the world.

"And who are you supposed to be, pray tell?" Ciel Phantomhive inquired as his demonic butler pushed the blond behemoth back into the parlour. Harlow could not find his voice as the Phantomhive boy, smirking like he recalled his former master doing many times, forced him further and further back until he hit the side of the doorway. It was a gesture that Harlow knew to mean the Earl held all the leverage in this meeting and was not interested in negotiation or explanation. Regardless, he tried to open a dialogue.

"I didn't kill anyone."

"Your face says otherwise. The bruising on it places you in Sir Talbot's house moments before he was murdered by having a knife driven through his eye. Do you expect me believe you're innocent of wrongdoing?" Phantomhive sneered. Harlow could see the boy was out for his blood. Words were meaningless. When confronted with the ugly laceration on Phantomhive's face and gauze bandaging his right hand, he could understand why: Lord Winslow had put him through the ringer.

"My former master came close, didn't he?" Harlow said hoping the boy could hear the guilt in his voice. Phantomhive opened his mouth to retort only to be distracted when hearing Hives call from the kitchen.

"Sir? Is everything alright?" The old man asked, footsteps growing louder as he came to investigate. Harlow saw the boy's eyes flicker briefly before he issued an order with cold detachment.

"Sebastian, make sure we are not disturbed."

"Yes, My Lor-."

"Everything is fine, Hives! Please attend to your duties!" The blond shouted back before his companion could encroach on their impromptu meeting. There was a long pause as Hives considered the order.

"Very good, Sir. Have a nice time out and about." The old man finally said. His footsteps receded back into the house until they could no longer but heard at all. He saw Phantomhive and his creature exchange looks of bemusement. The boy composed himself before clearing his throat.

"Her Majesty has decreed you are to be taken back to the Gaol in London so that you may stand trial for Sir Talbot's murder. Officers of Scotland Yard are waiting to escort you back to London as soon as you step out of this door."

"But I'm not responsible for my master's crimes! It was all that demon's fault! It killed both Sir Ranford and Sir Buxley! I swear it! Look into my eyes, I swear it's the truth." Harlow said frantically. Phantomhive levelled his eyes on him and emitted a long sigh that spoke more of lethargy than anything approaching pity. The blond knew then that the boy was already aware of these facts and that he did not care for confessions, just confirmation.

"Oh, I know it is. I know it's the truth. However, my demon informs me that Harris was only a mirror demon, an inferior creature, incapable of holding a conversation or establishing a rapport with even the simplest of human beings. Harris would have needed to establish an amicable relationship to murder Sir Ernest and Sir Talbot at such close-quarters, something he simply was not capable of doing. You were however. And you did. Once you possessed the necessary level of trust to come and go as you pleased in their homes, you and Harris switched places. The demon may have killed them on Winslow's orders, but you made it possible for him to be so discreet. I imagine with Sir Talbot, he deduced what had happened with his friend, Sir Ernest. That is likely what the missing pages in his journal contained, proof he had discovered Winslow had made a bargain with a demon and that you worked for him. Talbot would have killed you if Harris had not intervened. Am I correct?"

Harlow closed his eyes before nodding and giving his response in a voice barely above a whisper. "Yes."

"So who was upstairs when we arrived? You or Harris?" He heard Phantomhive ask in curiosity.

"Harris. I would not have missed the page after the final entry. The demon was told to tear out all pages relating to our master, nothing more." Harlow admitted with a shake of his head "But I had to do as my master commanded me to. I owed him my life. He was the only person who cared about me. Without him, I wouldn't be alive."

"And yet now he's gone, your continued existence among us seems to suggest that's not entirely true." The boy smirked with a condescendence Harlow had seen his master inflict on others, but never on him. "In any case, I don't much care what that old bastard was to you. I'm just glad I killed him before he could hurt anybody else. But, if you truly cared for him as much as you claim, standing before the judge on his behalf will be a formality you will relish. If the judge has any compassion, you may even get to walk the gallows for him." Phantomhive added in a voice so chilling it made the hairs on Harlow's neck stand up.

"I thought your butler was the demon." The blond managed to say. The boy drew up uncomfortably close to him and adopted a sinister smile. Harlow vainly pressed himself further into the wall to get more distance between them. But there was no escape from the evil creature smothering him. There was no escape at all.

"You thought wrong." Phantomhive said, "And so did Winslow. But just like you, he realised the truth. Right before I stuck a knife through his brain, he realised the truth. Consider yourself lucky."

Harlow went quietly after that. Ciel watched him leave with the escort in silence. A few minutes after the carriage's departure, he heard Sebastian draw up behind him.

"I have taken care of the servant. He has been placed in service to a more reputable household. What do you wish to do with the house itself?"

"The Crown will wish possession of it. But if Her Majesty wishes to portray me as less than a gentleman, I will act accordingly. Take the property deed for my solicitor to look over and lock the doors. I think I would enjoy summering here instead of Penzance."

"Yes, My Lord."

Ciel sat with his demon driver on the journey back to the manor. Again, Sebastian had provided extra padding for his seat to alleviate the sting that occurred whenever rough ground was negotiated, however the butler's handling of the reins and control of the carriage was exemplary in every respect. Despite taking some of the county's most rural paths, the ride was smooth and the boy felt he could relax tense muscles after half-an-hour passed into obscurity. He considered everything that had happened in the past few days, what he had done in the name of service as the Queen's Watchdog and whether she would ever trust him again given the smear campaign the papers were currently running against his public image as a philanthropist. Most of all though, he found himself mulling over what Harlow had said to him before being taken into custody, about his true nature being darker than the demon he sat beside. The boy had no qualms in adopting such a role, given what the blond man's master had put him through and those children, but he wondered why. Did he share more in common with Sebastian than he thought, or was it simply easier for him to play the villain rather than the hero irrespective of his just intentions?

"Sebastian?"

"Yes, Young Master?"

"Do you think I went too far with Harlow?"

"I believe you did what was required to get him to confess. You should be pleased that neither Lord Winslow nor his accomplices escaped punishment for their crimes. It is what Her Majesty wanted."

"And do you think we are as similar as Harlow believed us to be?"

"No, Sir. We cannot be."

"Why is that?"

"Because I am only here because I want your soul. Without such incentive I would leave immediately. You are here because you believe you only want revenge. That you also find time to love a fine woman, help children in distress and ensure criminals do not escape justice proves you are not consumed by a single desire or all-pervading thought. A demon cannot focus on more than one goal at a time. We are slaves to our need for sustenance. You are not so thirsty for revenge that you cannot enjoy the taste of anything else. There is light for you, Master. Only darkness exists for a demon." Sebastian said turning to him with a smile as they navigated a clear, straight stretch of road. Ciel liked the derogatory way he described his own kind. The boy also liked the way he glamorised his life as some kind of fairy tale. He smiled back.

"You almost make my life sound appealing."

"It is certainly more appealing than immortality."

"How so?"

"Because your candle burns so briefly, you have to make your time on this earth count. A demon has no such urgency with its interminable existence. It may languish for aeons at a time without a single contribution to the world it inhabits. It is a dull life." The demon explained. Ciel found his melancholy view somewhat beautiful in its emptiness. It presented an existence without end as a curse, one more lifeless than Winslow's rotting corpse and just as unpleasant to be a part of. The boy supposed there were worse things to be than a little cold and cynical of the world.

"And has my brief candle given you any excitement to console yourself with during the coming dull millennia?" Ciel asked. Sebastian's red eyes bore into his for the longest time, a spark of what could have been emotion dancing behind their blank gaze. His smile remained steady as he finally replied.

"Far more than I deserve, Master. I doubt I will ever taste another soul as rich as yours even if I outlast time itself."

"I suppose for a demon, that's supposed to be a high compliment?" Ciel sneered derisively. Sebastian turned his attentions back to the road.

"Many masters have asked me to judge their worth as a distraction to my existence. I have always told them truthfully that I will not remember their names once I devour their soul. And I do not recall a single one. But I will honestly remember your name forever." The demon said, his words resonating deeply with the boy. It was almost tender to hear Sebastian speak like this. Ciel considered.

"I want Stollen cake when we get back."

"But I have already prepared a white chocolate and blueberry cheesecake for your dessert tonight."

"Then you'll throw it away and make Stollen instead, won't you?"

"Yes, My Lord."


End file.
